Girl
by birdofshade
Summary: A girl is found among the Nazis, and the Basterds take her under their wing. Smithson/OC...don't question it. T for violence, and swearing.
1. Chapter 1

"Girl's still knocked out cold, huh?"

"Yep." Smithson replied, dropping his eyes to the unconscious woman lying in a heap next to him.

Donny tilted his head as Aldo approached the soldiers.

"Scrawny little thing ain't she?" The Lt. took out his canister as the two nodded.

Smithson couldn't help but ask, as Aldo snorted his snuff. "What'd ya think she did?"

"Hard ta say," the older man wiped his nose before continuing nonchalantly, "Gonna haft'a wait 'til she wakes up, I suppose-Hey! Now you knock that shit off!"

Smirking, Donny dropped the Lt.'s coat back over the girl-woman's bare legs. "Sorry, sir. Couldn't help myself."

The younger glared at him, pulling the brown material down to cover more of her. Aldo nodded his approval to Smithson before addressing Donny. "Well, learn to help yourself."

The burly man, desperate to separate himself from their stares, gave the woman a quick kick in the side. "Look. She's awake!"

Blurred eyes blinked up at them as she looked over them, "_Chto za huy_…?"("What the fuck…?")

"Hello, miss." Aldo nodded, taking his hat off.

Seeming to realize where she was, the woman, if you could call her that, sat up slowly, as she continued to look over the three. "_Ven er du_?"("who are you?")

Smithson was the first to say something, "what language is that?"

"I don't know, sure as hell ain't German." Donny said, looking around for the others.

"_Varför er du ignorerande jag? Svar min fråga_." ("Why are you ignoring me? Answer my question.")

Aldo pointed at her, "quiet."

Her bright eyes blinked tiredly, well; annoyed was more likely, "_vad_?"("what?")

He brought a finger to his lips, "Hush."

"_Er du sinka_?"("Are you retarded?") The woman's brow cocked as she eyed him with mild interest. She'd never met a mentally challenged person before.

Aldo simply repeated the motion.

Smithson looked down at her, before reaching into his bag. "Are you hungry?"

Offering her the apple, he flushed under her untrusting gaze. Her blue eyes dropped from his to the apple for a split second before she shifted away from him.

"Ya know, I wouldn't be surprised if that's the first food she's had in'a w_h_ile." Aldo said, "Bet'cha she thinks it's poisoned or…you _expect_ something for it."

"I don't though!" He hollered, looking at him than her, "honest!"

The Lt. chuckled slightly as two others, Donny included approached them. "Wicki speaks Czech, maybe that's it."

The man crouched in front of her, and she backed away subtly. "_Kde ar tebe dle_?"("Where are you from?")

"_Vad helveten er du gör_?"("What the hell are you doing?") She sighed, "_Var er jag_?!"("Where am i?!")

"It's not Czech. And she's definitely not German either." The Corporal turned to Aldo, "I think she might be Russian. Maybe Swedish."

"Well, d'ya speak Swedish?" He asked, watching as the young woman back further away from Donny. "Donny…"

"What?" The man barked, laughing slightly. "I didn't do nothin'."

"Hmm." The eldest hummed, looking down at the girl as she pulled his coat a little closer to her puny frame. "Guess the next thing we gotta find is someone who knows Russian than."

"We're keeping her?" Smithson asked, once again trying to offer her the apple.

"Yes, but don't say it like she's some kinda animal."

Donny dropped next to her, "Good, I've missed women." He brushed some of her hair back and she jerked away from him.

"_Idi na xuy husesos_!"("Fuck off, cocksucker!") She snapped, kicking weakly in his general direction.

"Maybe she speaks French." Wicki suggested, fighting a smile at Donny pout. "_Parlez-vous Français_?"("Do you speak French?")

"_Une montant petit_."("A small amount.") She answered, her eye lids drooping heavily.

"_Se que votre réputation? Où êtes vous de_?" ("What's your name? Where are you from?") Wicki said, tilting his head in curiosity.

"I take it she speaks French then." Aldo said.

"Anya. Anya Ledsen." Her tone picked up a hint of confidence. "_Je suis de Moscou. où suis moi?"_ ("I'm from Moscow. Where am I?")

Wicki looked at the men, "Her name's Anya, she's a Ruski."

Aldo chuckled, "good. What got her captured?"

"_Vous êtes dans La france , se que we're vous faits précédemment ils ont pris vous_?" ("You are in France, what we're you doing before they took you?") He asked and Anya sat up slightly, thinking over what he said before catching onto what he meant.

"_Professeur Musique , je disais quelque chose les solide ont fait pas semblable à."_("Teacher-music. I said some things the soldiers didn't like.") Her eyes met his, and Wicki restrained wincing at the glare he was met with.

"She says she was a teacher, the Nazis did like what she was saying."

Smithson took a bite of the apple, "Tell her to take the damn apple."

Rolling his eyes, the Corporal did as he was asked. "_Il dit à saisir les pomme_."("He says take the apple.")

"_Se que fait il vouloir pour le_?"("What does he want for it?") She pulled the collar of the commanding officer's coat up.

"_Rien_." ("Nothing.")

Anya doubted that, but took the apple regardless. But didn't eat it. She'd wait to see if it had any effects on him later. She nodded her thanks.

Donny gave her a once over, "What'd she say?"

"Thought he wanted ta fuck 'er for it." Aldo said, nodding for Wicki to continue.

"_Se que ont fait vous faites aux soldat_?" ("What did you do to the soldiers?")

"_Moi désiré à aider mais moi réfléchir je faisais le pire_." ("I wanted to help, but I think I made it worse.") She sighed, rubbing her eyes, careful not to irritate her swollen cheek.

"What?" Wicki snapped, causing the girl to jump, "_Vous désiré à aider les Nazisme_?!"("You wanted to help the Nazis?!")

His head snapped back as she slapped him. "_Se que c'est tort par les vôtres?! De trajet pas , vous muette le prix_!"(" What is wrong with you?! Of course not, you dumb prick!")

"This is the best thing I've ever seen." Donny's face split into a grin as Anya huffed, "It's like a fuckin' soap opera with no subtitles."

"You watch soap operas?" Smithson asked, only to be glared at.

"Hush up." Aldo said, looking back at the girl's flushed angry face. "What're we missin' here, Corporal?"  
Wicki rubbed his cheek. "I'm not sure."

"Well, when ya figure it out, come find me. Donny, let's go find us some Nat-zis."

"What'd she say?"

Wicki didn't take his eyes off the woman as the younger man spoke. He chose to ignore the Little One. "_se que ont fait vous vouloir dire , à cette époque-là?"("_What did you mean then?")

A tear slipped from her bright blue eyes and she stared at him. "_Je- je disais ils être sûr à myself , mais ils étaient aucun_."("I-I said they'd be safe with me, but they weren't.")

"_Qui_?"("Who?") Wicki asked.

Smithson watched as Anya turned the twice bitten apple over in her pale, dirty hands. His eyes travelled down to her bare legs, the coat barely covering her mid thigh, and briefly wondering if he'd be able to find her a proper skirt. Utivich shrugged off his jacket and draped it across her legs.

"_Mon étudiante. Trois de leur étions. importun parmi les soldat."("_My students. Three of them were...unwelcome among the soldiers.") Anya muttered, continuing to spin the apple.

"Jews." Wicki said, earning a nod from her and a startled look from Smithson.

"_Moi permettre leur tenir à myself , mais les être à la tête de professeur établir éteint et signaler myself_."("I let them stay with me, but the head master found out and reported me.")

"What'd she do, Wilhelm?"

He glanced at Smithson's somber expression before shaking his head. "Nothing bad."

"Then why do you look so upset?" The younger questioned, moving a little closer to the girl as she covered her legs with his jacket.

"_Mais tiens! ont fait ils prennent vous_?"("But why did they take you?") Wicki asked, once again ignoring the younger Private.

"_Ils ont dit si moi désiré à être une Juive ils would traiter myself semblable à une. Ils tué les enfants et poser myself dans les wagon_."("They said if I wanted to be a Jew they would treat me like one. They killed the children and put me in the truck.") Anya quickly wiped a few more tears from her eyes as they began to fall more rapidly.

Wicki turned to Smithson. "She was hiding Jews, got caught. I think they were taking her to one of the camps."

"Oh." He blinked in surprise as the woman, girl, continued to brush away tears. "Did she say why?"

"They were her students. The head of the school ratted her out and the Nazis got them." Wilhelm replied, not looking at the woman.

"We should tell the Lieutenant." Utivich said, nodding to reassure himself.

"_Se que se que êtes vous état du terrain à font à moi à_?"(" What...what are you going to do to me?")

"_Je fais pas savons_."("I don't know.") Wicki answered honestly, as he and Smithson stood. Anya simply turned the apple over again, making sure that as Smithson walked away, he wasn't limping.

She didn't know how long it would take his poison's effects to show.

*A/N: Okay, loved IB, and it should be noted, i WILL be watching the traffic for this story, and if ppl don't review or subscribe in what i consider to be appropriate numbers, i'll stall on the updates. I know its a bitch move, but this story in particular that i need a lot of help with, esp. constructive criticism.


	2. Chapter 2

-

Hours passed, and The Basterds were still adjusting to their audience.

Anya, who had not spoken since the early morning, had come to content herself by simply watching the men go about their every day tasks…scalping Nazis. Almost all of them, with the exception of Hugo, were surprised by her lack of empathy for them. Instead of the expected protesting, mutters of encouragement slipped from her lips in Russian. A delicate smirk rested on her passive face, indifferent, as the Basterds avenged the European Jews.

Dropping down next to her, Smithson kept his eyes on Donny, who paid no attention, simply continuing to beat a German soldier to death.

"How're you feeling?"

Her face turned toward him, meeting his eyes only a moment before lowering them to the ground. Spinning the apple in her still dirtied hands, she remained silent.

When would he grasp she didn't know what the hell he was saying?

She hoped it would be soon. But his constancy was sweet…annoying, but sweet. At least, Anya guessed it was sweet, but for all she knew he was telling her every detail of the rape he would commit on her.

She really couldn't be sure. But another glance at his tilted face helped let her guard down.

"The apple's fine," Utivich insisted, pointing to it. Anya glanced down at it, unsure, before offering it to him.

"_No_," He shook his head, "I'm just saying its fine, no poison."

The pair's attention drifted back to the scene in front of them as the man let out an agonized scream. The woman's eyes narrowed to a glare as the soldier whimpered.

"_Meki_."("Pussy.") She said under her breathe, trying to stay awake. Tucking the apple in Lt. Raine's brown coat, she uncrossed her legs. Smithson flushed as some of her pale skin peeked into view from under the material of his own jacket. She readjusted it quickly. He stared at the material. He knew what the Germans had done to her. He wasn't stupid. You find a beaten, naked girl in the back of a Nazi truck it doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened to her.

Anya brushed some of her reddish hair from her face. It felt greasy and slick between her fingers. Not entirely sure if the oil was from her hands or her lack of bathing, she sighed.

Hoping Smithson would catch on, Anya gestured to herself. "_Er där en någon floderna i omkrets här? Någon källa av ny vatten?_"(" Is there any rivers around here? Any source of fresh water?")

He blinked at her…was she coming onto him? No…he cocked a brow as she leered at him, disbelieving. Well, maybe…

Anya was wrong. Aldo was not the retard. This boy was. Shaking her head, she pointed to his canteen. "_Vatten_."("Water.")

Smithson looked down. _Was she pointing at his _**crotch**?! Maybe she _was_ coming onto him…

Sighing, the petite woman rubbed her eyes, tiredly.

"You-uh, you should get some sleep." Utivich said, standing quickly. Watching him go, she shook her head.

Sometime later, after the sun had gone down, many of the Basterds laid asleep. The only two remain awake were the young woman, and the Lieutenant. Cocking his head to the side, the older man watched as she ran her fingers through her hair again.

"So," He started, quiet, as so not to wake the others, "yer from Moscow, huh?"

Catching only her home town, she nodded. "_Moskva_."

"Moscow?" He repeated, and shrugged as she nodded in turn.

"Well, I'm from Maynardville, Tennessee. You know where that is?" Aldo asked.

Anya ran a finger over the American pendant on his jacket. "_Amerika_?"

"Tha's right, 'Merica. You Russian?"

She nodded. She didn't understand half the things he was saying, but she knew where Tennessee was.

"You like France?"

Anya blinked, the fire's heat lulling her to sleep. "_Frankrike_?"

"Fer-Ance." He repeated slowly. Shaking his head, he muttered, "never mind."

He stared at her through the flames. "How old 'er you, anyway? Eighteen?"

She simply blinked back at him. Sighing in frustration she rubbed her eyes. Fuckin' A. Anya had dropped her suspicions of _this_ man long ago. As well as the Translator. The Brass One, as well as The Little One, still left her a little weary…the others rarely spoke to her.

She preferred that. The constant English made her skull buzz unpleasantly. The Little One was the worst for that. He seemed to have developed some kind of troublesome fascination with her. Anya found it unnerving and presumed it amoral. She snuck a glance at the sleeping Bear Jew.

But at least the Little One didn't have a compulsion that made him lift her coat up with little to no warning. Fighting back the urge to huck a rock at him, Anya simply poked the fire with a stick.

Aldo groaned as he rose from his seat. "Well. Best ya get some sleep." Nodding his head, he said, "good night, Miss Ladson."

"Ledsen." She corrected, but nodded none the less. "_god natt_."

"Ga-ood Ni-high-_t_." The Lt. said slowly, and she gazed up at him.

Clearing her throat, she repeated. "Go'd nigh."

"Close 'nuff." He shrugged and then silently retreated to his cot, but not before catching glimpse of her pulling the apple from her, _his_ coat.

-

Smithson jumped, startled, awake as he stared, panicked at the young woman. "What?! What's wrong?!"

"_Rättvis inskrivning_."("Just checking.") She lifted her shoulders nonchalantly as she took a bite of the apple.

He blinked at her, "what?" Watching her pull the coat against herself as she took a seat next to him, he shook his head. Lying back, he was faintly aware of her soft laughter behind him.

She had a nice laugh.

-

The men stared down at her unmoving form.

"Maybe she's dead," Hirschberg suggested, tilting his head slightly as Donny prodded her with the butt of his bat.

"She ain't dead," He rolled his eyes, and prodded a little harder, "she's just fucked up."

"Donny! What'd I tell you 'bout sayin' fuck in front'a the girl!?" Aldo hollered, before stomping over to them. "What'd I say?"

The Boston native, turned his head to the ground, "not to say fuck in front of the girl."

"And why don't we say fuck in front of the girl?" The Lt. gave him a pointed look as he sighed and kicked a small pebble.

"'Cause it's rude." Donowitz said lowly, giving the girl another jab with the bat.

"Hm."

Blue eyes blinked up at them, but the girl remained prone. Lifting a brow, Anya found her voice. "_Är idag dagen jag till slut lära sig din namnen_?"("Is today the day I finally learn your names?")

"Guess what today is." Hirschberg went down on his hunches. She responded with silence, so Aldo went on for him.

"We can't have a Ruski who don't speak no English." The Lt. grinned. "You have no idea what I'm sayin' do ya?"

"_Vad_?"("What?")

"No it's not bad. It's good. It'll be a learnin' experience for ya." The man grinned. "Wicki's gonna teach ya."

"_Vem_?"("Who?") She asked, sitting as Donny let his bat wander the hem of her, _the_ _Lt_.'s coat. The reddish stain at the end of it unnerved her only slightly more than the creepy smile that graced his face as he did so.

Wicki soon made his appearance, Utivich trailing close behind. The older man quickly switched from English to French. "_Pret_?"("Ready?")

"_Pour se que_?" ("For what?") Anya asked, a hint of mistrust in her tone.

"_Votre leçon_." ("Your lesson.") He answered, watching as Smithson took a seat next to her, and yet again offered her an apple. She took it with no hesitation, smiling and nodding her thanks before she turned back to the standing man. She seemed to show no real interest in the others.

"_Mon se que_?" ("My what?")

He offered her a smirk, "_votre Anglais leçon_." ("your English lesson.")

Anya cringed, but nodded none the less.

-

A/N: Alright! It has been brought to my attention how bad the French is, I know, and I'm sorry. But I can either keep the French, or I can simply change it and find a new format. Mail me with your response.


	3. Chapter 3

"_Vous savez MOI réflexion I'd être fait mon leçon à la suite Je commençais enseignement_."("**You know I thought I'd be done my lessons after I began teaching.")** Anya sighed, resting her head on her hand as Wicki scrawled done some flash cards.

"_Vous réflexion tort_."("**You thought wrong**.") He shrugged, not aware of the glare the young woman had fixated on him. Utivich sat patiently next to the woman. He had slowly begun to adjust to the language barrier, but still felt complied to speak to her. Even when he knew it mildly annoyed her.

"So, you were live in France long, well, before ya, know, what happened?"

She glanced at him, "_Vad_?"

Smithson grinned, he knew that word! It was _what_. A spark of pride went through him-then he realized he didn't know whether it was French or Russian and the grin was gone. He sighed, "Never mind."

Wicki took this moment to chuckle at the young man's expense. "You know she hates that." He said, smirking, but turned to Anya regardless, "_il vouloir à savoir-faire long you've été dans La france_."("**He wants to know how long you've been in France.**")

"_Trois l'année ou tellement_."("**Three years or so**.") Anya shrugged, pushing some dirt from her legs as she uncrossed them. Disgusted to find she was still coated in a thin layer of sweat and grime, she glanced at Wicki. "_Font vous réfléchir Je pouvais prendre quelques-unes l'eau_?" ("**Do you think I could have some water?**") She gestured to Utivich's canteen with her finger.

The younger man's blue eyes popped, wide open_, she's doing it again!_ He thought, blushing. Smithson's hands dropped to his lap.

Wicki nodded, eyeing the fellow Basterd with both a quirked eyebrow and mild interest. ("**Do that again**.")

Not really grasping why, she simply repeated the motion, and the Austrian watched as Smithson's face darkened to a red. The older man chuckled, before shaking his head, "She wants the canteen, you idiot."

Utivich's brows shot up, and he hastily pulled the desired from his hip. "_oh_!" Placing it roughly in her awaiting hand he let out a nervous laugh, "I thought she wanted-"

"Your cock?" Wicki smirked, watching as the Little One's face flushed.

"No need to be vulgar in front of the girl." He muttered. He watched with quiet interest as Anya wet the end of the Lieutenant's jacket, and began to scrub part of her calf with it. "Anya?"

Her blue eyes flickered to him, and she nodded her acknowledgment. "Ja?"

"Um," Utivich wasn't sure where to go from there when something dawned on him, "I'm Smithson Utivich."

Anya watched him extend his hand and gently put the canteen back in it. "_Tack själv_?"("**Thank you**?")

"No, no that's not-" He shook his head, and glanced at Wicki, "want give me a hand here?"

The man shook his head, "no, I really don't."

Sighing, the younger tried again, "I-" He pointed to himself, "Smithson. You-" He pointed to her, "Anya."

She blinked at him. Not exactly the introduction she had been hoping for but she would take it. So, Anya nodded at him, and said, "Smi'zhon."

"Yes! I'm Smithson!" He put his hand out again, and this time Anya took it. Shaking it roughly, Utivich grinned at her, "I'm her first word!"

"You realize she may just be repeating you to shut you up, right?" Wicki asked, smirking ever so slightly as the smile dropped from his friend's face.

"Oh. No-I, I didn't think of that." He sighed, and began to flush as Anya gave him, what Wicki viewed to be condescending, what he thought to be a comforting pat on the hand before releasing it.

"_Et vous_?"("**And you**?") Her attention now on Wicki, she mimicked the motion Utivich had given her only moments ago.

"Wilhelm Wicki." Shaking her hand, he smirked, "_Tellement vous compreniez lui que_?"("**So, you understood him than**?")

"_Plutôt simple quand il sujet à soi et répéter son réputation deux fois_."("**Pretty simple when he points to himself and repeats his name twice**.") She shrugged. Dropping his hand, she went back to scrubbing her leg.

"_Prêt pour votre leçon , Mesdemoiselles_ Ledsen?"("**Ready for your lesson, Miss Ledsen?**") The man asked, and the young woman nodded.

"Ja."

-

English was a tricky language, and although she had always been a fast learner and usually a eager student, Anya began to resent it. It simply sounded so much different from what she was used to. Such as the word '_wh_at', the sound, _Wa_. She hadn't even heard that before.

Wicki had taken to teaching her words that she could use immediately, such as _apple_, and _water_, and _no_. He did this mostly so Donny could stop using the '_She Didn't Say No'_ excuse.

Smithson on the other hand, who was happy to help in any way, was trying to teach her who was who.

Sitting next to her on the hillside, he began with the higher ranking officers first. Pointing to the Lieutenant he said, "Aldo Raine."

Anya glanced up at the cloudless, but darkening sky, "_Vad_?"

"No," Utivich waved a hand at her, the signal they had agreed upon meaning 'dismiss'. Pausing a moment, he bit his lip. Hm. This might be a little more difficult then he had expected. There were a lot of men around, a lot of names to learn. Glancing down at her bare legs, he was quick to indicate to the Jacket. "Aldo."

"Allo?" Anya tried to repeat, and looked at the brown covering. Her blue eyes followed his finger as he motioned from the jacket to the older man down the hill.

"Aldo. Lt. Aldo Raine." He repeated.

"M_a_yna_r_'veel."

Smithson's brows rose, "What?"

"M_a_yna_r_'veel." Anya said, slowly this time, but her accent was still too thick to properly pronounce the word.

"As in Tennessee?" The young man glanced at his commanding officer, he hadn't heard him mention his hometown in front of the girl.

"_Amerika?"_ Anya asked, smiling slightly as she once again ran a finger over the pendant that lined Aldo's jacket. Tilting her head curiously, she watched her companion stand. Putting his index finger up, he quickly jogged away from her.

As Utivich retreated, Donowitz appeared.

"Hiya." Falling down on to the grass next to her, Donny grinned. "Hear ya learned Utivich's name…" Anya followed his brow with her eyes as it quirked. "Know mine yet?"

Her blue eyes blinked at him and his smile widened. "Wanna learn it?"

"_Vad_?" Anya's own brow rose and she watched with weary eyes as he sat up slightly. Donny stuck his hand out and Anya was apprehensive to touch it. Dried blood was left under his nails and she was given the distinct impression it would be similar to that of making a pact with the devil. He waved it. "Anne-yeah."

"_Aw-_na-ya." She corrected, annoyed with his lack of tack. He knew her name. He just chose to mispronounce it.

"Donny." He said, smirking at her complete lack of indifference. One of his favorite pass times as of late was pestering her. He pointed a bloodied finger toward himself and repeated the name. "Donny."

"Denya."

"Donny." He was glaring now, and was starting to think he was not imagining that smirk tugging at the corner of her pale pink lips.

"Denya." Anya repeated, widening her eyes innocently as his own continued to narrow.

Smithson returned with the Lieutenant and the woman promptly gave them her attention.

"Take a hike, _Denya_." Aldo smirked as Donny rolled his eyes, desperate to contain his blush as he stood. Following him with his eyes a moment, he didn't notice Utivich taking the man's place on the ground.

"He didn't bother you did he?"

Anya simply gave him a soft smile and another pat on his hand. Aldo turned back to the girl. Gesturing to himself, he asked, "You know me?"

"_May_na_r_'veel." She said, tilting her head, as she pointed to the jacket. "Ame_r_ika."

Utivich tug the corner of his mouth tug upwards as she rolled her _r'_s. It was cute. This did not go unnoticed by Aldo who shook his head at the young man's infatuation. "Now you knock that off. It's bad 'nuff we got Donny chasin' up her skirt, we don't need you followin' suit."

"I'm not!" Smithson said, eager to defend himself, "I'm just being nice!"

"Mhm, I bet." The Lt. sighed before looking down at Anya, who was watching the exchange with wide, concerned eyes. "Now you gone and done upset the poor thing."

Bowing his head, Utivich muttered a quiet, "I'm sorry," before standing and leaving the pair.

"_Var han gående?"("_**where's he going**_?") _Anya looked around the older man as the younger brushed past him, unaware her worried gaze was now fixed on him instead of the man in front of her.

"Now, you don't go encouragin' that." Aldo pointed his finger at her. "Bad."

"_Vilket_?"(**What**?") Her brow furrowed.

He pointed again at her, "bad."

The two stared at each other a long moment before she shook her head. "_varför måste du gör den här till jag?"_(**"Why must you do this to me?")**

"Bad." Aldo pointed again, before turning to leave. Calling over his shoulder, "And we're gettin' ya pants t'morrow!"

This elected a noise of disapproval from Donny. No one cared.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Okay, since I got so much awesome feedback(everyone seemed to love me treating poor Anya like a dog…not really sure what that says about my audience, but I love them none the less), I decided to update, quicker…? So thanks to all that reviewed, and I hope you like this chapter! I'll try to keep the humor coming. Also if you look on my profile page, Anya's pic is up there. And so is my Donny/OC story and a poll about this story.

-

Aldo clicked his tongue as he sharpened the blade of his most prized possession. Night had fallen, and along with it, a problem had presented itself.

The girl. Naturally the men had taken a liking to her, but after almost a year without so much as a pin up calendar, Aldo was sure they'd be appreciative of anything with breasts. Which meant giving her a chance to bathe would be risky, and mostly likely awkward for the poor thing.

He ran the whetstone along the smooth blade as it shimmered in the dark glow moonlight. _Hm_. His biggest problem, of course, being Donny, but Utivich was a close second. The boy was either too young, or simply too naïve to realize she had no sexual interest in him. In fact, majority of the time it seemed he annoyed her, but Aldo supposed the young man was simply smitten.

Turning his blue eyes over to the pair, he watched as Utivich continued to point out who was who, and Anya repeat the name. At least, that's what he assumed she was doing, as he was too far away to actually hear. Aldo smirked as Anya patted the boy's hand again. Maybe she didn't mind him so much after all.

-

"Alright, Donny you go with 'em."

"What, why?!" Donowitz snapped at his officer.

"Because I said so, that's why." Aldo gave him a look, daring him to question his authority again, and the younger man stood.

"Fine." Sighing, as he got up, Donny went and joined Hugo and Wilhelm in the truck.

Utivich followed him with his eyes as he past, making his way over to Aldo. "Sir?"

"Yeah?"

"How will they know what size to get? I mean, none of them have sisters or kids." He said, sneaking a glance in the young woman's direction.

Aldo took out his canister of snuff, "Hugo had a wife back in the day, 'bout her size."

"He did?!" Smithson's brows shot up as he stood, awestruck by the very thought of it.

"Mhm." Aldo inhaled some of the fine tobacco, "Seem a little surprised there, son. What? You didn't know Hugo had a woman?"

"No."

"Yes, well, he doesn't like t'a talk about it, so it's best ya keep this little tidbit to yerself." Aldo suggested, noticing the boy's eyes dart behind him. "You still teachin' Anyeh English?"

"Oh, um," Smithson cleared his throat and dropped his attention back to his Lieutenant. "Wicki says she's improving, and she seems to know most of our names now…"

The older man leaned a little closer to him, "but…"

"But I don't seem to be helping that much." Utivich eyes flickered over to Anya, who was listening quietly to whatever Kagan and Hirschberg seemed to be saying. "I think I might be getting in the way, sir."

"Hm." If he allowed himself to be perfectly honest, Aldo knew the boy's intentions were, maybe not completely innocent, but for the most part, harmless. Besides, if he thought he was helping, chances are Utivich wouldn't do anything stupid. Like talk to Hugo about his (now deceased) wife. Smithson watched Aldo scratch his scar, "Well, was it Wicki's idea to teach her our names?"

"No." Utivich said, shrugging slightly, "I guess not."

"So I think it's safe t'a safe, yer helping." Aldo offered his a strained smile as a wide, youthful grin stretched across the Private's face.

"Thank you, sir."

The man simply nodding, and shoed him away with his hand. "Go get the girl."

Worry shone in his bright blue eyes a moment, but Smithson nodded. "Yes sir."

-

Raine sat on a rock next to the river, looking over the hill for any of his men who dare peep in on the girl's bath.

Anya, however, couldn't give less of a fuck. The dirty river may have well have been a French bath tub. Wadding in the water, she scrubbed every speck of dirt and filth off, making sure to take care of the yellowing bruises along the inside of her thighs. Cursing every man she could think of (that wronged her), Anya dunked herself under the crisp water. Emerging a few moments later, to Aldo's hollering.

"Damnit, Hirschberg, you cut that out!"

"I didn't do nothin'! Wicki told me to send over the clothes!"

"Well, chuck it over here, don't you come any closer."

Gerald sighed, disappointed, and threw the brown papered package over to him. Noticing the blue eyes on him he waved, "Hi, Anya!"

"Allo, Ge_r_ald!" Anya replied, waving back, but made sure to keep her shoulders under the frigid waters.

Hirschberg's smirk dropped once he caught sight of Aldo's glare.

"Go."

And he was gone.

"Anyeh!" Raine motioned for her to get out of the water. "I'mma leave this package right here, and when yer ready, you come and g'it it!"

Sighing he watched her tilt her head. Knowing she most likely didn't understand a word he was saying, he pulled his knife out, and saw how she quickly swam a little further from him. "No! Anyeh! Get-it's for the-" He held the package up, but she didn't move. Sitting back on his rock, Aldo popped the string off with his blade. Pulling the clothing from the paper, he set it next to him and stood. Pointing to the hill, he offered her a smile before turning to leave.

Anya watched him retreat, and made sure he, and every other basterd, was out of site before stepping out of the water. Quickly pulling a man's shirt over her head, she cocked her head as she eyed one of the other garments.

She held it up. Why had they brought her tiny shorts? Shrugging, Anya simply pulled on the tan pants, and held the tiny shorts in her hand. "Hm."

Meanwhile, just over the hill top, Donny was fuming, and in the midst of a tantrum.

"Are you mother fucks, tellin' _me_, we got a _naked chick_, like, fifty feet away, and n'un'a ya bother to go _look_?!"

"Well," Omar smirked, "She's not naked anymore."

The Bear Jew whipped around to see Anya making her way down the hill. "God damnit."

Gerald smirked, "I got to see shoulder."

"Don't play with me, Hirschberg."

The short man nodded, and Smithson, who had been quiet through out the exchange, shook his head. He doubted Anya would let Gerald see her shoulders.

Unaware of their…somewhat lewd conversation, the girl made her way over to Wicki and Hugo, who were seated next to Aldo just outside the truck.

"_Je vous remercie , pour un jour vêtements_."("**Thank you, for the clothes**.") Anya hesitated a moment, before pulling the small shorts from her pocket. "_Mais Se que_-" ("**But what**-")

The sentence wasn't even out of her mouth before Aldo and Hugo started laughing, Wicki on the other hand, flushed red as he snatched the garment from her hand.

"Wh-why would you buy those for her?!" Aldo said, trying to calm his hysterics.

"I didn't! The shop keeper must have put them in the bag!" Wicki insisted, tossing the shorts into the truck.

Hugo chuckled as the woman shuffled awkwardly next to them. Aldo gave her a pat on the back, as she passed him his jacket, neatly folded. "Good girl."

"_Ils sont seulement boys sous usure."("_**They** **are just boys underwear**.") Wicki said, watching her frown.

"_J'ai jamais vu boys sous-vêtements semblable à thanksgiving_."("**I've never seen boys underwear like that**.")

A smirk played over the man's face as the others simply watched. "Que-"("How-")

"I have brothers." She snapped, her blue eyes narrowing slightly at the implication.

Holding his hands up in surrender, Wicki gave her a small smile. Aldo on the other hand, motioned for Hugo to take out what he had shown him earlier. Pulling a tiny box from his front lapel, the German gently placed it in Anya's hand.

"We were hopin' while yer here you'd make some repairs." Aldo said; as she popped open the tiny box. "You know how to sew, right?"

Beaming, Anya fingered one of the needles. Looking from man to man (…to man), Anya snapped it closed and held it tightly to her chest. For a second, they thought she would cry, and they all leaned back slightly. But she didn't. She just smiled at them and then threw in a curtsy for good measure. Not that it was easy, yanking on the leg of her pants and bending her knees only slightly caused her to stumble a bit, but she thought she held herself together pretty well.

-

A few minutes later, Anya sat across from Omar on the hill. He watched with subdued curiosity as her nimble fingers flicked over his jacket. Stitching and mending every broken string along the hem, he tilted his head. It was kind of hypnotic. Trying to blink himself out of his daze he looked up to the young woman's passive face. He supposed she was quite pretty. Not glamorous or awe strikingly beautiful, but her large blue eyes were calming and sweet. Reddish hair framed her face and was curling slightly. Her eyes went back to her hands as it held the coat up for inspection.

"I's g'od?" Anya asked, biting her bottom lip as Omar took it from her.

"It's great, thanks." He said, smiling slightly at how pleased she looked. "English is going well?"

She blinked those warm blues at him a moment before nodding, "Vicki say i's g'od."

Chuckling he nodded, "I figured. Know any new words?"

"V'e_r_ds li_k_e y_e_s, and vo'te_r_."

"You mean _water_." Omar corrected gently as she tilted her head again.

"I's vut I say-d, vo'te_r_."

"Wa-_ter_." He said, smiling slightly at her confused features. "It's a _w_."

Anya shook her head. "No."

"No?" Omar quirked a defined brow as she nodded. "This really isn't the kind of thing you say no to, sweetheart."

She stopped her handy work for a moment and pointed a finger at him. "No." Then to herself, "I s'ay."

"Anya-"

"Shh." Mimicking the motion Aldo had made at her days prior, she smiled underneath her finger. "No."

"Fine. No." He sighed.

"Y-es." She smiled, her eyes drifting to another man behind him. Omar didn't have to turn around to know who she was looking at.

"So, do have a boyfriend in town?" He asked, smirking ever so slightly.

"Vut?" Anya quirked a brow, "d'his v'e_r_d is not-"

Omar nodded quickly, "okay, never mind. Husband? You know like a man-" he gestured to himself.

"Boy?"

"No." He said, a little insulted, "_man_. Like a boy but you know, bigger."

Anya tucked her legs to her chest, "Alyo?"

"I don't-" Omar shook his head, puzzled. Stupid accent.

Her blue eyes narrowed ever so subtly in annoyance. Stupid Americans. "All-toe."

"All toe?" Omar looked down at his feet and Anya threw her head back in unbridled frustration. Glaring up at the white fluffy clouds, she demanded God tell her what she had done to deserve this. _I bet this is because I hid Pavel's school books when we were children,_ she concluded.

"Al…oh!" Omar nodded, and Anya mimicked the movement mocking him somewhat. "You mean Aldo."

"Y'es. Alyo." She said, convinced she was repeating it flawlessly. Omar rolled his dark brown eyes as a smile tugged at his lips. This chick was too much.

"Omar! Y'er shift!" Donny called, and Omar stood. Nodding his thanks (and goodbyes) he grinned as he shrugged on the jacket.

Giving him a lame wave, Anya laid back against the wilting leaves and grass. The sun was harsh against her pale skin, but she paid it no mind. Especially since it was soon blocked out by a large form.

"Ms Ledsen."

Sitting up, she smiled at him, "Allo, Hugo."

The German held up a shirt, red stains lining the sleeves and the shoulder almost completely slit from the rest of the garment. "Would you…?"

Taking it from his large hands, Anya hastily turned it inside out. She wanted to ask what had happened to cause the tear, but, noting the blood, she kept quiet as he took Omar's place across from her.

The pair sat in silence as she spun a piece of thread from the spool. Anya, focused on her task, didn't notice how he wouldn't meet her eyes, or even look directly back at her. It wasn't so much that…they looked alike. Just when the girl smiled, her ghost flickered behind it.

Anya with her light hair and pale complexion was nothing like his Hanna. The only real comparison was their dreamy eyes and bright smile. So he turned from her, choosing to watch her hands instead of her face.

-

Wicki lit a cigarette as he and Smithson stood guard. The day had been long and dull. Not to mention freakishly hot, even for August. Wilhelm wasn't one to gossip, or one to even start a conversation, but this was just too tempting.

"So, Ms Ledsen."

Utivich peeked at him in his puerperal vision. "What about her?"

"She is a very pretty girl." The older man said, watching his side of the forest carelessly. "Not to mention educated."

"Yeah…" The Little One was staring out right at him now, not entirely sure where his friend was going with this.

"I'm sure she has many suitors." Wicki pressed, smirking at his expression.

Utivich dropped his eyes to the ground, "I'm sure she has."

Wilhelm, although he was sensitive (okay, maybe not sensitive, but understanding perhaps) to the young man's affections involving Ms Anya, but they really knew nothing about the girl. Except that she was a Russian music teacher, who had been living in France for three years.

"Do you have any idea of her intentions for after the war?" the corporal asked.

"No, I imagined she want to-" Smithson cleared his throat, "oh."

"You understand where I'm going with this?" Wicki said, tilting his head to look in his direction, but not necessarily at him.

The private nodded, "you think she'll want to go back to Russia. Back to her family."

"Of course she will. Young unmarried woman, where else would she go?"

_Back to Manhattan with me_, he mused, but of course didn't speak it out loud. "I don't know, find another school in France?"

Wicki chuckled and quirked a brow, "why the hell would she do something like that? It's not as though she had a very endearing French experience."

"Good point." The younger sighed, anxiousfor the conversation to end. "Thought of any new words for her?"

"Well, right before we left, Omar asked we teach her what _man_ meant, and husband." Wicki chuckled, "I don't think they can make out her accent quite as well as we can."

"Yeah." Smithson said, smiling softly at the thought of her accent. He liked it. It was cute. "She seems to catch on pretty well."

"Yes. Lucky she was a fast learner, or else we might have a real problem on our hands." Wicki smirked again, "imagine if she kept having to use hand signals?"

Utivich flushed pink as he chuckled nervously, "yeah."

"Hm. Maybe next we should teach her canteen." The man grinned as the other groaned.

A/N: okay, I'm not trying to offend any one with the accent. And if you don't like it, I can drop it...shoulders would be a big deal in the forties right?

Also I'd like to again throw out that a poll is now up on my page concerning this story and a link to a photo of the actress I would have chosen to play Anya. I hope you don't mind the little bit of…creative-ness I through into Hugo's character as well, as I intend to write a one-shot expanding on this within the next week or so.


	5. Chapter 5

"You know," Aldo scratched his scar as he spoke to his second in command as the pair watched the young woman sew. "I served with a Ruski once."

Donny quirked a brow. "Really?"

"Yep. In the Great War. Stationed together a month before the poor bastard got shoot through the head." He put two fingers up to his temple and made a popping sound. "Sonabitch never saw it comin'."

"Hm." The Boston man shuffled from his laying position on the ground, into a half hearted sitting one. "So, what? Ya think they're related er somethin'?"

"Not fuckin' likely. Russia's a big place, Donowitz, you know that."

Anya looked up from her work when the word _Russia_ slipped from the Lieutenant's lips. But once the word _Donowitz_ followed it, she instantly went back to work. Nimbly plucking her fingers over Donny's army jacket, she quietly listened to the men discuss what she found to be trivial matters.

"Goddamn, you hear about Zimmerman and that French wh_ur_e?" Donny exclaimed, chuckling, "robbed 'im for all he's worth."

"Well, it's a good thing he ain't worth much than, ain't it?" Aldo said, shaking his head, with a small grin on his face, "'S why you should never spend the night with a whore."

"Vore?"

They turned to the young woman, who was smiling innocently at them. Curiosity stirring in her trusting eyes.

Instant guilt. Aldo, for of course, speaking so derogatorily in front of the young lady, and Donny, well, he wasn't so much feeling guilty as he was embarrassed. His mother'd skin him alive if she caught him talkin' like that to a girl.

Aldo cleared throat, "well, ya know. A young woman," he gestured to her in an up and down motion as he went on, "who…_sells_ herself."

"You know." Donny nudged her, then pumped the air with his hips. "Fucks for money."

"Donny!" the older man gave him a swat on the back of the head.

"Oh! _Telka_." ("**Prostitute**.") She nodded. Then went back to stitching. Anya, though not very experienced in the world of sexual indecency herself, had a cousin who was.

Aldo glared at the man across from him. "I told you not to talk like that in front'a her!"

"What? You said fuck I figured-"

"Well, damn it, Donny, ya figured wrong." He jerked a thumb over to Anya, "now, 'pologize."

"What?"

"'Pologize."

Donny pouted, and rolled his eyes, "but it worked, d'n't it?"

Aldo stared mercilessly at him, and the man submitted. "I'm sorry, Anya."

"No, Denya." Her shoulders bounced as she shrugged. This word was new and since it was coming from Donny…it was assumed perverted.

"So what I put up with?" Donny said, laying back down on the wet grass, "all this skirt ever gives me is grief."

"Hm." Aldo pulled out his snuff, "when 'er you 'spose to take shift? Wicki and Utivich have been out there most'a the day."

"Ugh." Donny grunted as he sat up, "I'll get Hirschberg and we'll go soon as my jacket's done."

"D_o_ne." Anya said, smiling gently at him, she held it up, "I's g'od."

She wasn't seeking approval anymore. She'd gotten used to sewing now, and it had become like a second nature to her over the course of a few hours.

The Bear Jew's eyes narrowed slightly. "How come she can say done but she can't say Donny?"

He took the coat from her, and gave her a rough pat on the head as he left. Aldo barked out a laugh at the indignant look on her face. Running a disgruntled hand through her hair, Anya crossed her legs.  
"So. Anyeh."

"Ja?"

The man offered her an apple from his pocket. "Tell me a'little 'bout yerself."

Blue eyes blinked at him as she took the apple. "Vut?" She nodded her thanks as she took a bite.

"Tell me about Anyeh." He rephrased. "Talk," He made a speaking motion by opening and closing his hand, "about Anyeh." He then pointed flamboyantly at her.

The woman stared at him.

"Anyeh. Talk." He made the motion again, and this time _yipping_ sounds came out of his makeshift puppet. "yip, yip, you know like a woman."

"D'his v'e_r_d, _talke _eet is new, y_e_s?" The word talk being mangled into rhyming with the word chalk through her thick accent, Anya mimicked his hand motion. "Yep yep?"

"Ta-kuh-ing." Aldo said slowly.

"Tuking?"

"Close 'nuff. Now, _tuck_ about Anya." He smiled at her, and she sighed. Just because she repeated the word didn't necessarily mean she understood it.

Aldo rolled his eyes and pointing to his mouth, "talking. _Tucking_."

She blushed, _oh_. Of course. "Vut you kn_o_w?"

"Well, I know yer a teacher and Russian. Now, I ain't implyin' nothin' I just think we should have some common knowledge of the young lady stayin' with us. Sound fair?"

"You're talking too fast for her."

The pair looked up at the new voice, as Wicki took a seat next to Aldo. The superior officer looked around, "Where's Utivich? Donny let you boys off?"

"Yes, he and Hugo drove into town for supplies."

Warning lights flashed in Aldo's mind but he pushed it back as he realized Wicki was starting to speak French. "Hey! Now you knock that off!""What? Why?" Wicki asked, slightly taken a back by Aldo's harsh tone.

"'Cause if ya keep speakin' French at 'er she ain't never gonna learn." Aldo said, sternly as Anya glanced between them.

"Oh, so now you want to give her the lessons?" Wicki replied, smirking as the older man hesitated.

"Ya know I didn't mean no disrespect but for christ'sakes the girl didn't know what talkin' meant."

"And you explained this to her?"

"_T_u_king_." Anya made the motion, "yep yep."

Wicki sighed, "Aldo…"

-

Utivich sat silently next to the brooding solider. The man had arrived requesting a man to help him load the truck, and Wicki had so graciously volunteered the younger man. That basterd.

Almost afraid to break the silence, Smithson spoke quietly. "So, what're we getting?"

"We're going to find out what happened to Miss Ledsen."

"What?!"

Hugo glanced over at the young man. Pulling something from his jacket, he handed it to Smithson. "I found this in the back of the truck."

Utivich blanched as he took the wallet from him. "It was this truck?"

Hugo nodded sullenly. "In the back."

"Oh." The smaller man muttered. He reluctantly opened the wallet to find it empty. All but a small business card, with Anya's name and address on it. "We're going to her house."

"We should be there any minute. It's just outside Paris." Hugo said, eyes focused completely on the road, "the…men who did it are most likely squatting there."

Smithson's eyes widened in shock. "And we're just going to barge in there?! Without back up or clearance or-"

"I brought you along because I thought you cared for her. Thought you'd want her avenged personally."

"I do." He replied, just above a whisper. He felt something drop in his lap, and looked down to find a semi-automatic in his lap.

"Than show her." The German smirked.

-

The house was small, and reeked of stale air and cigarettes. As Hugo closed the door, Smithson froze. Reddened outlines were in the corner. Three children sized blood stains that trailed on the floor, going just outside the door. The bodies had been moved, but a small hand print was clear on the blemished wood.

And that had scarred him far worse then anything he'd seen before.

Laughter rang from the basement, and the pair looked at each other. Without so much as a nod of understanding, the two rushed down the stairs.

-

Just under an hour later, the problem had been taken care of, and the men were poking through Anya's belongings. The down stairs was basically empty, aside of the bodies of eight Nazi soldiers, and the upstairs was beginning to seem that way too. Except for a piano in the corner of the den, and some pictures, the house was fairly bare. A small wood stove was placed just opposite of it, with a window in front of it.

Smithson sighed as he wandered through the rooms. Some how that hadn't been as fulfilling as he had hoped it would. Although at the time it was satisfying, it left him feeling slightly…hollow. Hugo had gone into the kitchen, scavenging for something to eat.

Making his way into the bedroom, Utivich gave it a once over from the door way before entering it completely. The bed was pushed up against the wall in a corner, bare of any kind of sheeting. A vanity mirror was just over a wooden dresser, and his made his way over to it. Plucking a brass double photo frame, he raised a brow at the images inside it. Two young men, one maybe Anya's age, the other clearly younger. There was no inscription, but the clip had been worn down a bit, so Smithson knew it must have been important to her. Closing it gently, he tucked it inside his jacket. He pulled one of the drawers open to find it empty. So he opened the next, then the next. Soon every door was open and all were bare.

"It was probably sold." Smithson didn't turn to face him as Hugo entered the room, "Only reason the piano's here is because its too big to get out the front door."

"Hm." Utivich back up and sat on the bed.

_Creak_

He looked around, "you hear that?"

Hugo pointed at his foot, "loose floor board."

The American moved his foot and watched the board rise. "It's not loose…it's been made removable."

Reaching down, he propped the board up, and put it aside. Pulling the case from the floor Hugo watched with a tilted head. "What is it?"

Touching the black case gently, Utivich smiled. "It's a violin."

A/N: Polls up!


	6. Chapter 6

The sun had long since set, and our beloved anti-heroes were perched dismally in the dark.

"They've been gone a long time." Hirschberg noted, as he poked the fire with a stick.

Aldo nodded, "yeah, 'spose we should go out lookin' for 'em."

"And where do you suppose we start looking?" Wicki said, just a slight hint of a sneer settling his usually detached features. Soon after…volunteering Utivich, he had begun worrying. Usually it only took an hour for supplies to be picked up. His friends had been gone almost four. Wilhelm knew he wasn't the only one concerned. Donny had become uncharacteristically quiet and Zimmerman kept glancing at the road. The worst was Anya. They hadn't told her what was going on, but she knew regardless. Pacing back and forth, Anya had soon become a nervous wreck. She held her left elbow in her palm as she drummed her fingers over her lips.

"Don't know. Reckon we just start drivin' 'round for a bit 'til we come across 'em." Aldo stood, and the men were quick to follow. He held his hand up as Anya approached them. "No, not you."

"Vut? Y_e_s me." Anya said, glaring slightly, as the man pointed at her.

"Stay."

"No."

Raine quirked a brow, "well, goddamnit I think I liked ya better when ya didn't speak no English." He put his hands on her shoulders, but turned to the men behind him, "now y'all go get in the truck while I speak with Anyeh."

So the men left, and Aldo moved her over to a log. Sitting her on it, he raised a finger to her. "Now, you stay here while we go. Just in case they come back."

She remained silent, and sighed. Aldo back up a pace then motioned to the log, "stay…_stay_."

Anya crossed her arms as he continued to back away.

"Stay, good." He grinned at her, "Atta girl."

The girl rolled her eyes as he made his way to the truck. This was ridiculous. She wasn't a child, she should be allowed along! Crossing her arms, she watched the truck drive off. Anya stood and went back over to the fire. Laying a few feet from it, she gazed in to the darken sky, memorized by all the twinkling stars. She closed her cerulean eyes for a moment. God, she hoped they were okay. She'd grown rather fond of the two missing men.

Hugo, though intimidating and silent, was usually good company. He'd speak slowly and made sure she understand what he wanted or meant.

Smithson…well, he chattered away and often stumbled over his words when he spoke, but…well, he was…well. Smithson was Smithson. The sweet one who had pulled her out of the truck and treated her like she was glass. A breathe hitched in her throat and she busied herself by thinking positively. So positively in fact, she didn't even hear the truck pull up until familiar voices snapped her out of her imaginary sanctuary.

"You don't think they left, do you?"

Anya bolted up, grinning.

Hugo smirked as he saw her, "if they did, they forgot the girl."

She was on him in an instant; arms tight around his waist, Anya continued to smile. Smithson dropped his eyes to the ground as the young woman held the large German. He patted her gently on the head, and she pulled away. Without hesitation, the girl quickly slipped her arms around Utivich. He flushed as she nuzzled her face into his neck, and awkwardly patted her back. Anya slid her arm up to his neck and held him a little tighter. Smithson smiled as he put his hand on her shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze before he pulled away.

Although she felt slightly dejected, Anya grinned. Opening her mouth to speak, it occurred to her that she had no idea how to phrase what she wanted to ask. So she settled for cupping his pale face in her hands, and gazing at him a moment. Perhaps a moment longer than necessary. Flicking a strand of dark hair from his eyes, Anya let her hands fall from his face. Catching them in his own, he smiled at her blush.

"We brought you something." Utivich said, his bemused features taking in her perplexed ones. Letting one of her hands drop, he pulled the frame from his jacket. Recognition sparked in her eyes, and she move to take it. But then hesitated, and backed away from him slightly. He knew what happened to her, Anya realized, and cast her eyes down.

Hugo watched the scene play out with uncertainty. He hadn't seen him take the intimate object from the woman's home, and briefly wondered why it affected her so. The German tilted his head as tears began to flow from the young woman's eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but ended up just shaking her head at the Little Man. Sadly.

"Anya? What's wrong?"

"Miss Ledsen?"

The men stared at her as she continued to back away. Hugo approached his comrade, and looked at the brass metal plated encasement. "What's that?"

"It's just a picture frame." Utivich muttered, and Hugo nodded.

"Well, there you have it." He said. The man lowered his voice, "She knows where we've been."

Smithson adopted Anya's puzzled look, "so? Shouldn't she be happy?"

"One would assume." Hugo shrugged, and went to the young woman's side. Leaving Smithson to unload the truck by himself.

She didn't look up as the imposing man sat next to her. A stifled breath caught in her chest as she closed her eyes. He recognized the look of shame and placed a hand on her smaller one.

"He doesn't blame you. For anything." Hugo cleared his throat, his mind drifting back to another time, drifting back to Hanna. Their experiences hadn't been that different. Only the fact that he had arrived too late for his wife truly separated the women.

"Vut vere you-?" Anya groaned in frustration as she raked her hands through her auburn hair.

"We were…giving you a rightful retribution. Do you understand?" Hugo watched her shake her head, and he rephrased, "we killed them."

Her eyes narrowed slightly and she briefly considered what the word meant. He showed her his knife, blood stained and sharpened. Anya rose her brows and she let her gaze stray from him to the young man unloading the truck.

"For you." He finished. Noticing her attention was no longer his, he smiled momentarily. Giving her hand a brief squeeze, he stood, and without so much as a word left her.

Smithson snuck a peek at the girl sitting by the fire. Not turning to Hugo as he spoke, he asked, "Is she mad?"

"Not sure."

"Mm."

In silence, the two finished their task. Pulling the last box from the dingy green truck, Hugo dropped it onto the ground with little to no respect for its contents. The smaller man had taken to standing inside the now empty back, and staring at the inner walls of it. He was careful not to touch anything, not to focus on the small blood stained seats. Hearing the distinct sound of an automobile approaching, he hopped down from the back.

Anya didn't look up from the fire as the men returned to their camp. In fact, she didn't so much as spare them a glance as Aldo chewed the two men out.

"'N ta make matters worse, ya scared the daylights outta the girl!" Aldo made an emphasis of this, removing one of his hands from his hips in order to thrust it in Anya's direction. "And if you ever think of-ugh! Just what the hell were you doing anyway?!"

Smithson's eyes didn't stray from the distracted Russian, but Hugo's did.

"We had to make a pit stop." He said stoically.

Aldo quirked a brow as he spoke, "oh yeah, where?"

"In town."

"Why?"

"Had to get something." Hugo answered, smirking ever so slightly at the nerve twitching in Aldo's forehead.

The older man snapped his attention to Smithson, "what's he talking about, private?"

"A violin. We got one for Anya." He answered flushing slightly at the other men's snickers. "Thought it might help pass the time, sir."

"Hm." Aldo looked him up and down before nodding. "Not a bad idea. Next time give us some warning."

"Yes, sir." The men chimed.

The lieutenant dismissed the men before taking Hugo aside. "Now, I can see why Utivich might be gong-hoe to pick the little Ruski up'a vi-o-lin, but why were you?"

Hugo shrugged. "Like he said. Thought it might help pass the time, sir."

Aldo eyed him skeptically a moment, but kept his suspicions to himself. The two joined the others by the fire just in time to watch the Little Man hand Anya the case. Her eyes widened slightly at it, and briskly took it from him. Opening the lid open she smiled. Carefully brushing her fingers over a picture inside it, she pulled the violin from its case. Holding it in her lap, she smacked the bottom of the case.

It popped out, and she quickly set it on top of the lid. Of course, the men were watching with mild interest as she began pulling bits of paper from the small wooden box. That is, until they realize what it was.


	7. Chapter 7

Aldo stared at the young woman as she pushed the papers of one pile closer to him.

"Dear lord, she must have a hundred dollars stowed away in there." He said, slightly shocked as Wicki picked through the other. Hirschberg pulled the violin off the case.

"Whose this?" He asked, holding up the picture.

"I's Tasha." Anya said, a small smile lifting her lips.

He nodded in appreciation, "she's cute."

Donny snatched the photo from him before snickering. Letting out a low whistle, the Bear Jew held it up to the young woman's face. "Looks just like ya, Anne-yeah."

Anya let out a nervous chuckle before settling in a little closer to Smithson. He patted her back gently as Omar took the photo from the larger man.

The man's brown eyes flickered from the photo to the girl in front of him a few times.

"I don't see it."

"What?!" Donny exclaimed, "They could be twins for Pete's sake!"

Omar shook his head, "nope. Maybe cousins, but I don't-"

"Oh, shut up, Omar, no one asked you anyway."

The man looked slightly indignant at his friend's scoff. "Hey!"

Next to them, the older, and let's face it, more mature, men were speaking in quiet tones. Aldo took the papers form Wicki. "Well, what're they?"

"Look like they could be passports, birth certificates."

"Why would she need a birth certificate?"

Wicki shook his head, "not for her. For three children." He rose a brow as he continued, "appears to have been two girls, one boy. Ages six, nine, and eleven."

Aldo stared at him. "Why in the hell would she need those?"

Wilhelm hadn't mentioned why Anya had been centered out by the Nazis. To his knowledge, only he and Smithson were aware of her…sensitivity to their cause. So, he cleared his throat, but was interrupted before he could even speak.

"Why in the hell would she need passports to Russia?" Aldo continued, scratching his scar absent-mindedly.

"She must have been taking them to her family." He speculated, taking the paper from his redneck lieutenant. "That's why she has so much money. Travel expenses, train tickets…"

Aldo tilted his head as he eyed the German warily. "Why'd she be carryin' a bunch'a French children over t'a Russia?"

"They were Jews." Wicki stated, a tone of simplicity in his voice as Donny and Omar began to shout.

"I'm just saying you could be a bit more polite!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, I'm just sayin' you should shut the fuck up, Ulmer!"

"Donny!" Aldo snarled, whirling around to face him.

"Sorry, Anne-yeah!" Donowitz rolled his eyes before turning back to Omar. They locked eyes a moment, glaring, before Omar turned to Anya. Passing her the black and white photo, he smirked.

"Well, who is it? Twin or cousin?"

Anya glanced at Smithson for help. He smiled reassuringly. Worthless. Her eyes narrowed into a glare a moment. Sighing, she rubbed her eyes.

"Vut?" She asked tiredly, as she tucked the picture away in her case.

Hugo chuckled as Omar began gesturing to himself, in a flamboyant, feminine manner. "Cousin? Or…" He pushed away from himself in disgust, "sister?"

"Coo-zan…seestar?" she repeated, to the best of her abilities anyway. Being half-asleep, Anya's accent was thicker then usual, and she found herself leaning against the Little Man's side.

Giving the girl a once over, Hugo interjected his opinion. "Leave her be, boys."

A small amount of protest came from the pair, but a glare from the man silenced them.

-

The next morning, the Basterds were awoken by music. Well, at least Zimmerman was. Blinking open heavy eyes, he didn't get up right away. Looking over the secluded area, it took him a moment to locate the soft sound. Seeing no one within the vicinity, his gaze travelled upward. Looking at the bridge, he finally saw her, perched like a small bird on top of the opening. Sitting on dirty concrete as she held the violin in her hands, the body resting carefully on her shoulder while the bow gracefully glided across it.

Every other moment or two, her face would scrunch up in annoyance, and the man would watch as she would cross her legs, place her bow in her lap, and fiddle with the pegs before repeating the previous motions.

Standing, Zimmerman stretched his arms over his head, yawning as he made his way over to the girl. Looking up at her, he decided it would most likely be best to let his presence be known.

"Miss Ledsen?" He called, watching as she leaned over to look down at him.

"Ja?" Her voice was soft, perhaps tired as she took in his ragged appearance. He was considerably older than her, and about the same height.

"May I come up?" He pointed in her direction.

"Ja." Anya nodded firmly, patting the seat next to her.

The man made his way up the bridge, keeping a slow tired pace as she turned to face him. Placing her instrument in her lap, she was still mildly unsettled at the idea of the Basterds, at least two of them, having been in her home. Even if it was done in the defense of her honour. Caressing its wooden upper bout, Anya offered the man a sweet smile. He returned it, taking a seat next to her and looking out at the dozing men below them.

"I think I like them better like this." Zimmerman said, chuckling to himself as Anya simply followed his gaze with her own. Letting them flicker over the Little Man a moment longer than the others before she gave her attention back to the one next to her.

"Have you been playing long?" He asked, pointing to the violin.

Anya's blue eyes went to her lap as she ran her finger over one of the f-holes. "Vut about _skripka_?"

"Violin." Zimmerman repeated, point to it, "_Sker_**eep**ka?"

She nodded, supposing it was close enough. His eyes drifted to the case, and he cautiously picked it up from the ground. Snapping the lid open, he took the photo from the crack it was wedged in with one hand, while the other reached into his breast pocket. Holding them side by side a moment, he tilted them in her direction.

"This is my family, and this is yours." He said, smiling at the young woman's interest. Her fingers flickered over the young woman's face as he held it up.

Taking it from his aged hand she crossed her legs she looked over at his photo.

Zimmerman offered it to her, but she hesitated. It was rather worn, and she didn't want to damage it. "Take it," He said, waving it slightly.

Anya stared at him, "Tuck?" She made the hand gesture she had come to use when referring to talking.

"No. Take." The man said. "Here."

Taking it with gently fingers, the girl examined the man's family. A woman and two older children looked back at her, smiling in grayscale.

"It's an old picture, the man said, a slight sigh in his husky voice. "Ruth passed away a few years ago, both the children have gone on to have children of their own."

"Oh?" Anya tilted her head, not entirely sure what he was talking about as he took the photograph from her.

Zimmerman smiled down at it softly, "they may not look like much," he chuckled, shrugging as he placed it back in his pocket, "but they're mine."

"Meen?"

"Mine," he corrected, placing a hand on his breast pocket, patting it. Zimmerman scoffed as Anya looked at her own photo. But it wasn't a cruel one. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Vut?"

"Never mind." He smiled, standing as a few of the men below them began to stir. "Shall we?"

Anya took the offered arm, curtsying awkwardly in her tan pants.

-

Aldo glared at the men in front of him. "You lied to me."

Hugo said nothing while Smithson dropped his eyes to the ground.

"You said you went into town. That's lie number one," He held up his index finger as he let out a huff, "You obviously went to that girl's house. Now I'm gonna give you one last chance to tell me what in the fuck went down there before I let Donny have his way with ya."

Smithson glanced at Hugo, who didn't so much as glance back at him. Inhaling deeply, the younger man spoke.

"We went to her house."

"Well no shit, Utivich. But why? Where is it? What the hell happened there?"

"We-we found her wallet in the back of the truck." His blue eyes dropped to the ground under the man's fierce gaze, "Thought we'd check it out."

"Why?" Aldo drawled, taking in the young man's discomfort.

Hugo spoke for him this time, "you know why, sir."

"Did you get my scalps?" Their Lieutenant asked.

"No," Smithson shook his head, "we got them for her, not you." His pale face flushed darkly at Aldo's knowing smirk. "Sir." he added as an after thought.

"Did you take anything other than that?" He threw his thumb over his shoulder to where Anya was tuning her violin. She seemed to be speaking quietly with Wilhelm.

"Yes." Smithson said, remembering the brass object in his pack. "A photo frame."

"That's all?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mm." Aldo ran his tongue over his teeth, "And where is Miss Anyeh's house?"

"Just outside Paris." Hugo answered, "About an hour from here."

"Good." Aldo said, "You'll take us there t'amorrow. Got some unfinished business to take care of."

"Sir?" Smithson's voice was slightly quiet and a tad shy, "do we really have to go back there?"

While he had been more than a little eager to get his hands on the _brutes_ that had…_introduced_ themselves to the Russian woman, he wasn't ready to go back to the blood stained walls, and quiet unsettling home.

"Gotta see if 'er story checks out. 'Sides, be nice t'a sleep inside for once." The man shrugged.

Hugo tilted his head, "you have suspicions?"

"Not exactly, but if what Wicki tells me is true," Aldo cleared his throat, "we should be meetin' up with her old boss some time soon."

A satisfied smile drifted over the man's face as he dismissed them. The sun was setting in the distance, and the men had just about finished there rounds. Omar and Donny were still out in the woods, patrolling, but they would be done soon enough. So, the remaining men (and Anya) were content to sit around Wicki, and wait for him to light a fire.

"Come on." Hirschberg whined, rubbing his hands together, "light it."

"It's not even dark yet." Wicki said, rolling his eyes as the younger man groaned.

"Come on!"

"No."

There was an obscenity muttered and the three men listened in silence as Anya pulled the bow leisurely across the strings.

"Where do you supposed she learned?" Wicki asked, but received no real answer. Only a shrug from Zimmerman and an insisting demand for fire from Hirschberg.

"I said no!" Wicki snapped, glaring at the shorter man.

The girl watched with mild-interest as she pulled her instrument from her shoulder. She had adjusted to the men's, almost, constant fighting even though it still unnerved her at times. Her brothers fought just as often, perhaps even more so, but she had become accustom to that over the years. Besides, she often knew whatever her brothers were saying but angry words uttered in English often left her feeling somewhat left out. But she was getting better.

"No fire?" Smithson asked, joining the group as the German shifted his glare up to him. "What'd I say?"

Smiling softly at him, Anya shook her head.

It wasn't until hours later that she could speak to him in private. Following him with sad eyes, she watched him go about his night tasks. Such as packing the remaining supplies in the truck. Anya crossed her legs as Wicki spoke.

"You really shouldn't resent the boy." He had been sticking to his promise. Wilhelm still was not resorting to French. "He had your best interests in mind."

"_Re_-scent?" She asked.

Wilhelm smiled, a weak tug in the corner of his mouth. "Resent." He decided to try and relate it to a few words she already knew. "Angry, sad."

"Ah." She nodded, "Smit'zen vus in my…"

"House?" Wicki offered, "home?"

She blinked, watching him make a square with his fingers, "Y_e_s. Home."

"Yes he was."

"Vhy vus he d'e_r_e?" She asked, feigning annoyance as she kept her eyes on the working man. "Z'he_r_e vus no…"

"Reason? Purpose? Point?"

Anya sighed, rubbing her eyes. "D'e_r_e vus a pu_r_pose. I jus' do not und_er_stand d'he…" She motioned to dismiss with her hand as she pulled her knees to chest. "He t'_ink_s…"

It wasn't the proper word, but for the life of her she couldn't remember what it was. But think was a good substitute.

"Nothing bad of you, I'm sure, Miss Ledsen." Wicki said, firmly, "None of us do."

"D'ese verds are-"

"New, yes, I know." He interrupted, "which ones are troubling you?"

"Non?"

"None. Zero" He held up his hand, then put each finger down. "Five, four, three, two, one, _zero_."

"Ah." She nodded, "t_r_u-bull?"

"Tr-ou-ble. Bad." He simplified, sighing to himself. God, he was exhausted. Giving her a pat on the head, he stood. "Good night, Miss Ledsen."

"G'od night, Vilhelm." She replied, smiling at him as he wandered over to his part of the camp.

Smithson watched him go as well, wishing he had stayed a few moments longer. Just so the transition would be easier for him. He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders as he made his way over to his sleeping area. He felt bad about it, but she hadn't been that impressed with him lately, so he figured it was best to give her some space.

But Anya didn't want space, she wanted something else entirely. Slipping her hand inside her violin's case, she took hold of the familiar photograph. Giving the dozing men around her a sparing glance, she jogged over to the Little Man. Looking down at him briefly; Anya didn't wait for his approval before sitting. Smithson smiled softly at her as she took a deep breath. Holding up the photo, she tried to recall how Zimmerman had phrased it.

"Is Tasha. _Natasha_ is mine." She said.

He tilted his head, "she's your what?"

"Pavel an' _R_oman a_r_e mine."

"Your what?" Utivich chuckled, shaking his head, not remotely aware of she was talking about. His jest seemed to upset her, as Anya snapped at him.

"Mine! Mama, Papa, _R_oman, Tasha," She pointed to herself, as tears welled in her eyes, her voice dropping in shame. "Anya, Pasha, _mine_."

She hadn't meant to vent on him, but frustration did not bode well with her. Come to think of it, Tasha had a terrible temper as well. The man's smile dropped as he sighed, picking up on what she was saying.

"Oh." He sighed, "They're your family."

"Y_e_s," She sighed, wiping a few tears away as they slipped from her tired, shame-filled eyes. "Mine."

Smithson nodded, pulling his pack onto his lap. Yanking the strings, he opened it. He placed the brass frame in her hands, earning a smile from the girl.

"Z'ank you." She popped it open and shuffled a little closer to him. "_R_oman," Anya pointed to the older boy, then the other, "Pavel."

"Your brothers?" he asked, but already knew the answer. "I don't have any brothers, only sisters."

There was that word again. "See-sta_r_s?"

"Sisters, like your Tasha, only, _mine_, and American…" He tilted his head, "and ya know, Jewish."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Miriam, she's the youngest and Dinorah. She's about your age." He said, smiling as she looked up at him. Something was off. "What's wrong?"

"You," Anya cleared her throat, a faint blush on her cheeks, "you ve_r_e in my home."

"Yeah." Smithson nodded, not really understanding her discomfort.

"I t'ink vut you do, you do for me?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I…I was at your house. And what I did, it was for you."

"Vut you must t'ink…" A few more tears of shame trailed down her cheeks and he was quick to brush them away. He cupped her face in his hands forcing her to look at him. Shaking his head, Smithson was tempted to sigh at her.

"I think what happened to you was terrible, sweetheart." A crimson hue blossomed on his cheeks as he dropped his hands, moving away slightly. A puzzled look crossed her face, parting her lips slightly as she watched his embarrassment.

"D'is ve_r_d is new, yes?"

"Yes, ha, I," He swallowed, chuckling nervously, "I suppose it is, Anya."

"Is s'veethu_r_t bad?" The girl asked.

"No," Smithson replied, "no, it's not bad. I just," He sighed, "shouldn't call you it."

"V'hy? If is not bad, is good, yes?"

He brushed a piece of cinnamon colored hair from her face. His voice was strained as he spoke. "I can't call you it," Smithson licked his lips, "because you're not _my_ sweetheart, and I don't think you ever can be."

Any a let out a tired sigh as she shook her head, "Too many new ve_r_ds, Smit'zen."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Zo_rr_y?" She had heard this word many times, often from Donny, but she wasn't entirely sure what it meant.

"Sorry. I did something bad, and now I'm sorry." He explained, watching understand settle in her calm blue eyes. He loved that look.

"Ah." Anya nodded, "I am zo_rr_y I am not y'e_r_ _s'veethu_r_t_, Smit'zen."

"Yeah," Utivich smiled sadly at her, weaving their fingers together a moment before pulling away from her. "Me too."

A/N: okay, I just checked out the traffic for this story, and its waaaay higher than I expected. So I expect more reviews(although the ones I've gotten have been amazing, and I thank you) because I still hold the threat I made in chapter one dear to my heart. If my expectation is met, I will have the next chapter up ASAP. It's not a very high number so I think y'all can do it. Have a good one, and I hope you had a happy and safe Halloween.


	8. Chapter 8

Omar waved at the girl as she stitched a hole in a pair of Wicki's trousers. Smiling back at him, she offered no verbal greeting.

"So," The man cleared his throat, as Wicki glanced at him. "Any one tell her yet?"

"Tell me vut?" Anya asked, tilting her head as Wicki glared at Ulmer.  
"No. Donny and Aldo have gone to check it out, make sure it's safe. If it is, they should be back by night fall to accompany us in to town."

"Oh." Omar nodded, his dark hair falling in his face as he did so. "Well, maybe _we_ should, I mean, it's her house."

"My house?" Sitting up a little straighter, her eyes darted between the two as her pale skin whitened further. The men shared a look as she stood, a fire lit in her usually calm eyes they hadn't seen before. "Vut do you mean _my_ house?!"

"Nicely done, Omar." Wilhelm snapped, turning to the girl, "We may spend the night there."

Anya's breathe hitched as she began to pace, covering her mouth with her palm. Shaking her head, she glared at them. "No."

"No?" Omar smirked at her anger, "Again, Anya, this isn't-"

"No, _I_ say, ve can't go z'e_r_e! He's going to be jus' up d'e _r_o'd." Crossing her arms over her chest she kicked a pebble as a pensive look came across the young Jew's face.

"Just up the rod?"

Wicki sighed, "She means road." His brown eyes went back to the haughty woman. "Who will be there?"

With a hint of disgust gracing her soft features, Anya spat out a name. "Emilen Ignatius."

-

"Oh, she's pissed." Hirschberg said, watching as the woman continued to stomp back and forth below them. "No doubt Ulmer opened his big mouth again."

"Hm." Zimmerman gave no reply as the two of them watched the scene play out below them.

Gerald tilted his head. "When're Utivich and Stiglitz suppose to be back?"

"Probably not for a while, why?"

"Well," The younger chuckled, "if any one can calm 'er down, Utivich can."

"That's true. Hey, have you noticed how almost all the conversations we've had in the last two weeks have centered around his and Anya's relationship? Why is that?" Zimmerman asked, shaking his head.

"Probably because we've been in the woods for the past two years without so much as a nudie mag, and the only one she's givin' any attention is Utivich." Hirschberg suggested, "Lucky bastard."

-

Donny popped the lid of the piano open. "The fuck…?" he muttered, turning to the door, "_Aldo_! _This pianie ain't got no keys_!"

The lieutenant's voice wandered up from the basement. "_Sold 'em_!"

"Oh…" Donny nodded, "_Why_?!"

"_Ivory_!" Aldo snapped, a little frustrated by the man's lack of tack. The basement was dark and the scent of blood mixed with the harsh scent of gun powder and decomposition still lingered. Pulling out his box of snuff, he lifted the cover as Donowitz sauntered down the stairs. Leaning carelessly against the safety rail, the imposing man glanced around the cellar. Sucking his teeth, he watched as Aldo raised a bit of snuff to his nose.

"Cheery place the girl's got here, ain't it?" Donny said, a twinge of hostility in his voice. He'd obviously passed the front hallway on his way in, and he wasn't about to forget the blood stained walls that had trapped him in Anya's cozy home.

"Downright chipper." Aldo said a breezy air to him as he inhaled. Turning from the Nazis dead bodies, he looked up at the man. "Safe t'a say its safe, then."

"How ya figure?"

"Well, if someone was gonna come lookin' for these sorry sons'a fucks, they'd a been by, by now." Aldo shrugged, "Two days with no contacts? Not likely. People have either been and gone, or just ain't lookin'."

Donny shrugged, "Ain't much left of 'em, is there?"

"Nope," Aldo grinned, "our boys did good."

"That they did." Donny was proud of them. Taking out a group of large as this by themselves. Almost made him jealous. "Should we head back?"

"Yeah, suppose we should." Aldo gave one of the more decorated dead soldiers a swift kick in the head as he moved towards the stairs. "Leave 'em here, we'll show the boys later." He glanced down at the body's as he stood next to the man, "just make sure Anyeh doesn't see 'em."

"Yes, sir."

-

Anya was glaring at them before they were even out of the truck.

"Oh, god_dam_it." Aldo growled, "Alright, who told the girl!?"

Omar's hand went up as the men around him pointed in his direction. "Sorry sir."

"You-" The young woman huffed indignantly as the men approached her, almost passively, "_you vent to my h'ome, vith not even as'king me_?!"

"Now, look here, Anyeh I know yer upset-" Aldo started but a shove to the chest shut up him. "Oh, now you don't even want to start tryin' that, Ledsen."

"Vhy?!" She shoved him again, throwing her petite frame into it. He didn't so much as stumble.

"We were just checkin' it out, now-" Another sharp push caused him to wretch her hands away from him. "Now knock it off!" Holding them tightly he scowled down at her as she tried to yank herself from him. "Anyeh-Anyeh!"

"No!" Stomping down on his foot, Anya jerked away from him before fleeing the camp completely.

"Fuck, _Anyeh_!" The Lieutenant called watching the girl run into the forest, sighing to himself, he muttered. "God damn it."

The men looked at each other, waiting for orders to go after her, but they didn't come.

"Sir?" Omar watched as Aldo shook his head.

"Let 'er go," There was some minor argument but Aldo went on, "she'll be back. Got no where else t'a go."

Omar and Wicki shared a glance, neither very pleased with the idea of leaving the Russian in the forest to fend for herself. But they didn't say anything as their superior sat down, rubbing the back of his neck. His conscience was wearing on him enough for the both of them.

An hour passed before the men became unnerved by Anya's absence. One hour turned into two, two turned in to three. And soon enough Smithson and Hugo returned to the camp. Dropping onto the ground, the younger let out a sigh as he laid back, arms secure behind his head. The other was content to lean against the truck.

"How was the girl's?" Stiglitz asked, pulling out his famed knife as a quietness settled over the soldiers.

Donny let out a forced chuckle, "Pretty goddamn awesome."

"Fine." Aldo said, once again pulling out his snuff again. "We'll head there in the mornin'."

"Why not tonight?" Smithson's voice was tired, quiet, as he lay half asleep a few yards away from them.

"Aldo roughed up yer girlfriend and she took off."

There was a moment of silence as the words sunk in before he slowly sat up. Not really sure what part to address first, he simple went with, "Pardon?"

"I didn't rough 'er up!" The man snapped, glaring at Hirschberg. His blue eyes clicked to Utivich who stared at him accusingly as he stood. "She started it!"

"Well-wait, what'd you mean _she_ started it?"

"She pushed me."

Smithson stared at him. "She pushed you."

"Yeah." Aldo said, incredulous, "I know right?"

"She pushed you, and you banished her to the woods?"

"I didn't banish 'er to the woods!"

"Yeah kinda did." Omar interjected, "I mean if ya had just asked her then-"

"Shut it, Ulmer!"

"Well, why didn't you go after her?!" Utivich snapped, grabbing his rifle from the ground.

Aldo watched with distant eyes, "And where in the hell do you think you're goin'?"

"I'm going to get her!"

A/N: I know I said I wouldn't update, but I _like_ updating (at least while I'm on a roll), and hopefully some day some one some where will write another (hopefully better) Utivich/OC story. Review. Please.


	9. Chapter 9

After a few moments of persuasion, the lieutenant let the boy go. Of course, Aldo knew it really didn't matter if he had his permission or not, Utivich was going after her. He just let the older man believe he had some authority over his choice to keep his ego intact.

The sun was slowly falling from the sky and Smithson was beginning to grow weary of the girl's disappearance. It was a big forest, she could be any where. Hell, she may have been out of the forest for all he knew. But she wasn't, and after a few more minutes of paranoia inducing searching, he found her. She wasn't even that far from the camp, really.

"Hey," Sitting down next to her, he placed his rifle in his lap as she kept her gaze on the trees. Biting her lip, Anya continued to pick at the grass in front of her. She simply turned her face away from him as he looked at her.

"Why'd you run off?" Smithson asked. He had honestly thought she was over the whole _they're in my house_ angst.

And she was, honest. No, Anya was upset for two, what she figured were legitimate, reasons. The first, being that they were in her house. So Smithson was kind of right, but at the same time, kind of wrong. She really wouldn't have minded so much if they had simply asked her permission. Or at the very least, informed her of their intentions. The second, was, well, the men's intentions. There had been a reason she didn't wish to return to her home. Why did they think it was appropriative to force her to spend the night there? It wasn't.

Exhaling, her chest heaved as she spoke. "Vhy do d'ey vont to go d'e_r_e?"

The sun was set low in the sky, the remaining rays illuminating her hair a bright orange. Utivich's blue eyes took her in as she looked at him expectantly.

"Thought it might be nice to sleep in doors for once?" He smiled.

"Vhy my house?" Anya asked, quirking a brow, "Vhy not od'he_r_ house? New house?"

"Look, Anya," Smithson slipped a hand over hers, stopping her fidgeting. "I know, you don't want to go back there." He moved closer to her as she blinked at their hands. Acknowledging his attempt at comfort, Anya put her other hand, over top of his. Clearing his throat, he went on, "I know you don't want to go back there, and I don't blame you. But you could let us stay there, just for a night or two." Smithson looked up to her face, both of them passive and somewhat awkward. "You wouldn't have to go inside. You could stay in the truck if you really wanted."

"Really?" The brow was back up, slightly skeptical of his kindness.

"Of course," He nodded, "I'd even stay with you, ya know," Smithson flushed at her soft smile, "if ya wanted me to, that is."

"Okay…" Anya agreed, watching him stand.

"Okay." Utivich offered his hand, which she took hastily. He pulled her up easily.

"D'ank you." She smiled, hooking her arm into his. "Smit'zen?"

"Yeah?" The two began to make their way back toward the camp as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Vut day is it?"

"Uh, Thursday, I think, why?"

Her eyes dropped from his as they walked, her mind else where. That meant she had a night to plan.

-

Aldo and Anya stared at each other. Neither ready to apologize as the men around them shuffled awkwardly. Sighing Aldo finally opened his mouth, only to choke it back in as Anya threw herself in to his arms. Holding tightly to his rib cage she murmured an apology as he attempted to pull her to arms length.

"Anyeh-Anyeh that's great really but-Anyeh." The man's patience was wearing thin, but he didn't really mind _that_ much. It was more embarrassing then anything. Last thing he needed was for his men to think he'd gone soft.

"Ve go to my house." She nodded firmly, pulling away from him. A smaller hand grasped his and she tugged him toward the house, "ve do d'is ney'ow."

"Neyow?"

"Now." Smithson explained, smiling somewhat to himself, "she actually kinda…wants to go."

Aldo quirked a brow, ignoring his men's laughter, as the petite woman continued to yank his arm. "Why?"

"Come." Anya snapped, flustered by his lack of subordination.

"Not sure," the boy shrugged, struggling to keep the smirk from his own face. "She asked what day it was and then she got real quiet."

Wicki subtly rose a brow, but said nothing as he thought this over. His brown eyes fluttered to Anya, still attached to the man, pulling what now seemed desperately at his wrist. Odd.

"Well-" Aldo grunted as she latched onto his pinky, "guess we should go then."

Wilhelm watched wordlessly as the two went to the truck, Aldo in the front, as well as Donny. Anya was slightly hesitant, but at Smithson's reassurance, she got in the back with the men.

Something was wrong.

-

Sitting stiffly between the men, she wasn't exactly in her comfort zone. Seated between Smithson and Hugo, Anya spent the ride in silent as the men around her chortled enthusiastically about sleeping in doors. A reassuring hand was placed over hers, and she dropped her head to the man's shoulder. Smithson blushed faintly, but the darkness thankfully kept it hidden.

Nuzzling his head against hers, he shifted a little closer to her as Anya gripped his hand a little tighter.

"So," Omar smiled at the two of them, a twinge of guilt went to his stomach as they moved a little further apart. "Exicted about going home?"

"Home." Anya repeated, her mind drifting back to Moscow, before she nodded.

Blinking at her, the man across the truck tilted his head. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes."

"Oh…good!" Omar grinned, unaware of her frown in the faint light.

"Yes, Anya," Wilhelm said, a low drawl in the darkness, "why the sudden change of heart?"

Hugo glanced down at the young woman, the close proximity allowing him to see the glare set on her soft features. Smithson seemed to be unaware of it, as he shifted his body awkwardly. Whether it was due to the change subject matter or the cramped space, Stiglitz was not sure. So he ignored it. For now.

"No, Vilhelm."

Omar leaned over to the German, "Why does she think it'll go away just because she says no to it?"

"Because she's woman." Donny interjected, looking back at them from the front seat.

"_Denya_." Anya said, rolling her eyes, "no."

-

The men entered the house with no hesitation. In fact, Hirschberg and Omar actually _ran_ into it. The others were a bit more…well, hesitant. Anya especially, as she refused to even leave the truck, crawling into the front seat as the men got out. Donowitz, Aldo and Stiglitz brought the supplies into the home, while Zimmerman persuaded Smithson into checking out the perimeter first. Wilhelm, on the other hand, followed Anya to the front seat.

"I know something's up." He told her, dark eyes burning into her pale stony expression. "Tell me."

"Tell you vut?" She snapped, glaring at the house through the windshield. "D'ere is nut'ing to tell."

"Bullshit." He stared at her, "Look me in the face and say that then."

Anya made no attempt to look at him and he nodded, "thought so." Wicki shook his head, "look, we trust you. You know this. You could easily use it against us."

"No." She shook her head. "I's…" Shaking her head, she trailed off.

"It's what, Anya?" There was a moment of silence, "fine." He cleared his throat, "but you should know that until you tell me, I'll be keeping an eye on you, _Miss Ledsen_."

Her eyes closed as he left, slamming the door behind him. Sighing, the girl dropped her head back against the seat. Ignoring the unsettling conversation she'd just been involved in, she remembered why she had ever agreed to come back. Popping the glove compartment open, she pulled out a gun, and slipped the left behind bowie knife into her knife.

Holding the cold metal of the Beretta M., a disdainful smirk crossed her features as one name came to mind.

Emilen Ignatius.


	10. Chapter 10

Anya put the gun back in its proper place, along with the knife. She popped the glove compartment closed as she sighed.

Fridays were a good day for this job. Since the war had started, Anna knew that Ignatius often stayed late on the weekends. Usually ignoring the family he had at home in order to do paper work, he wasn't exactly the best picture of fatherhood. And it was one of the many reasons Anya loathed him.

His family was small, with a young, pretty wife, and a son, who had spent a majority of his short life with a nanny. They lived about a mile from the private school, in a house that was far too large to be suitably practical for their needs. Anya ground her teeth as she remembered what he'd done to her, to her students, to her home.

Her blue eyes set into a glare as she let her mind fog over with hate, completely oblivious to the world around her. Or the watchful eyes on her.

Wicki stomped out his cigarette as Utivich sat on the front steps at his feet. Not taking his dark brown eyes from the fuming woman in the truck, he asked Smithson what he thought of the whole thing.

"What'd you mean?" The younger man looked up at him curiously.

"Miss Ledsen. Don't you find it a little odd that she was so eager to get back here, and now she won't go inside?"

His brows furrowed as Utivich shook his head. "No, why should I? I mean, I told her she didn't have to come inside."

"Oh?" Wilhelm quirked a brow of his own as he spoke, "is that so?"

"Yeah, I mean she was pretty worked up about comin' back so I told 'er I'd look out for her if she wanted to stay in the truck."

"Hm. So, she isn't coming inside then?"

Utivich shook his head, "don't think so."

"And you don't find this odd?" Wicki questioned, eying him with mild annoyance.

"Where's all this coming from? I thought you liked Anya." Smithson continued to look up at him, slightly hurt by Wicki's sudden lack of trust.

"I do." The German assured him, "I just find it odd."

"Hm." He hummed, "I guess it is kind of strange."

"It is. I want you to keep an eye on her."

The young New Yorker chuckled, "you want me to spy on her?"

"Yes." There was no hint of humor in the man's voice and Utivich blinked in shock.

"What?"

Wicki looked down at him, unmoved by his expression. "Spy on her if you must, but be discreet about it."

"No, Wick, I'm not gonna-"

"Yes you will!" Wilhelm snapped, grabbing him by the shoulder, "I know you like her, but if you want to keep her safe, you'll look out for her!"

Smithson stared at him. "You- you really think she's in danger?"

The hand slipped from his shoulder. "I think," Wicki cleared his throat, "that she's been hurt, and won't hesitate when she decides to get revenge. If she's reckless…" he dropped his gaze to the ground, "well, let's just say we won't have to worry about her odd behavior any more."

The two looked at the vehicle in silence a moment before the older man retreated into the house. Leaving the boy alone in the darkness.

Standing, he brushed the dirt from his pants as he went over to it. Tapping the glass of the window, he smiled apologetically as she jerked.

"Sorry." He said, opening the door, after she unlocked it. Sliding in with ease, he smiled at her. "Hi."

"Allo." Anya nodded at him, still slightly shocked by his unexpected entrance. But after taking a moment to compose herself, she did, softly, return the expression. "Z'e house is g'od, yes? You all…" Her voice drifted as she tried to come up with the proper word.

"Fit." Smithson said, "We all _fit_."

This wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. The men were cramped, but still considerably more comfortable in the small home than they were out in the woods. No bugs(with the exception of flies and maggots, but only in the basement), no real problems…except, perhaps, the lingering scent of death, but otherwise it was just lovely.

He was snapped out of his daze as a loving finger ran down his cheek. The pale skin heated under her touch, but she paid the gesture no mind as she repeated it. Anya's cool index finger went from his temple, to the soft curve of his cheek, before it circled his jaw, returning to his temple, redoing the motion. He blushed every time.

Smithson brushed some of her dark hair back as he leaned into the touch. "Anya?"

"Y_e_s?"

"What-" he cleared his throat, taking her smooth hand from his face. "What are you doing after the war?"

Her fine brows rose as she tilted her head, "Vut?"

"After the war. Are you going back to Moscow?" He been meaning to ask her since Wicki had brought it up, but never had the opportunity. They were almost always surrounded by the others, and at the chance of looking weak, Utivich tried to hide his affections of the girl. He didn't hide them very well, but he tried.

Anya stared at him, continuing to be mesmerized every curve and plain of his face in the dim light. "M_os_co_w_." She nodded, "yes."

"For sure?"

"Yes." Her voice was quiet, and she moved at little closer to him, "Smit'zen? Ve_r_e you go?"

He briefly considered letting _Moscow_ slip from his lips, but he finally shook himself from the idea. "Manhattan. Back to my family."

"Deeno-_r_ah, Ma_r_ium?"

Grinning down at her, he chuckled, "Dinorah and Miriam, yes."

The girl's hand went back to his cheek as he slipped closer, pressing delicately against her as moved her thumb over his brow.

"Smit'zen?"

"Mhm?" He closed his eyes to her touch, ignoring the lingering sadness from her answer. It had been the answer he'd been expecting, but not the one he wanted.

Anya smiled to herself. He was a sweet boy. A good man. She'd miss him the most. "_Spasiba_."

"Spas-ee-bah?" Blue eyes peeked open at her as she let her hand fall. "I don't…"

"I's t'ank you."

Utivich quirked a brow, "For what?"

"Vut you did in d'e t_r_-uck." She didn't have many memories of the night the Basterds had found her, but she remembered him. He was the one who pulled her out of it. Smithson was the one who found her.

"Hold your hand?"

Anya shook her head, "no. You…ve_r_e go'd, d'e fi_r_st night."

He gazed at her, comprehending what she meant. "Oh. Well, your welcome, Anya."

"_Spasiba_." She repeated, resting her head on his shoulder as she sighed. "You a_r_e go'd. Al_va_ys."

Gently resting his chin on her forehead, Smithson pulled her closer. "Thanks, Anya."

"Much better d'en Denya."

Laughing, he squeezed her as they looked out at the cozy, darkened home.


	11. Chapter 11

The hours ticked by, and soon Anya found she was the only one conscience in the vehicle. Brushing some dark hair from Smithson's face, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before sliding out from under his arm. Giving him one last forlorn look, Anya slipped out of the truck, and into the darkness.

Hugo tilted his head as he watched her disappear from sight. Leaning against the window frame he ignored Hirschberg's questioning look. The imposing man glanced at him a moment, shrugging his jacket on as he left the room. Taking a quick look in the truck, he shook his head as he passed the dozing man. Stiglitz took off down the street after the girl. Her slight figure just visible, but moving fast as she had broken into a sprint in the time it had taken for him to leave the house.

The solider caught up with her just in time to see her dart in to a building. The only one for what seemed like miles, the dark brown bricks seemed to glow ominously in the basking light of the moon. His blue eyes flickered to a window as it lit up, and a thin silhouette was seen, fleetingly before moving from it. Sighing, Hugo entered the building silently.

Making his way up the stairs, he kept a careful ear for any indication of another's presence. The only sounds he heard were the shuffling of his feet, and the sound of his pumping heart in his head. Eying the only lit window with wary hesitance, Hugo peeked into it to find Ms Ledsen bent over a filing cabinet. Rooting through it with zealous enthusiasm, Anya stilled for a moment, placing an envelope on the desk behind her. She caressed the folder briefly not taking her eyes off it as she slowly sat behind the desk. Opening it, the young woman carefully moved a photograph from it, followed by another, and then another.

The faces looked up at her, and an unbridled rage settled in her chest. Touching the black and white photos, Anya bit her lip as Hugo entered. She didn't spare him a glance, simply pulled the Beretta from her waist and pointed it in his direction.

"Miss Ledsen?"

Her blue eyes shot up to his as she gasped. They stared at each other a moment before she set the gun down on the desk. He followed it with interest, picking it up just as Anya pulled her hand away.

"And what were you intending to do with this, Miss Ledsen?" Cocking it, he glanced down at her pale face, Hugo pointed it at her. "I expect an answer."

"He vill be he_r_e tomo_rr_ow." She said, monotonously as her eyes locked on the barrel. "I vanted to be.._ray_-dee if 'e vus he_r_e."

Stiglitz put the safety on the Beretta as he rolled it in his palm. "Do you even know how to use it?"

It took her a moment to process what he was saying, but when she caught on she shook her head. "Nyet."

"Come here," Beckoning with his hand, he waited for her to come to him. Looking up at him, Anya watched his jaw set as he backed away from her slightly.

_Too close_. Hugo thought, grabbing her hand and putting the gun in it. "Hold it like this."

His hand was massive compared to hers, grasping it with more then a hint of brass force. "Cock it."

"Vut?" She winced as he brought her other hand up, and jerked it hard, electing a sharp click from the weapon.

"Now you just aim and pull the trigger." Stiglitz pushed the barrel from his direction, and watched the woman turn it over in her hands. "Be careful with it."

Anya nodded. "_Spasiba." _

He stared at her, shaking his head as he moved to the door. "We should be going. The others will start to suspect something."

"One." Holding a finger up, she went back to the filing cabinet, rifling through it briefly, she pulled another file out. It was popped open, and she lifted another photo from it, dropping it to the pile on the desk as she shoved the drawer closed. Tucking them into her pocket, she nodded. "Okay."

Hugo nodded, and the two silently made their way back to camp. Just as she went to enter the truck he grabbed her arm.

"You realize there were no bullets in that gun." He said, looking at her pale face in the dim light.

"I's not for use," Her accent was unwavering, and he struggled to understand her through the mutual language barrier, "I's fo_r _show."

Nodding he pushed some of her hair back from her tired face. "Be careful, Miss Ledsen."

"I vill." Giving him a weak smile, the girl slid into the truck, and he walked inside with a heavy conscience.

Smithson's eyes fluttered open as she laid her head on his side, not moving to close to him, instead staying close to the door. He glanced down at her face, turning his head just in time to see Hugo enter the house. His heart sunk as he gently caressed the side of her face.

"Anya?"

"Da?"

"Where've you been?" His tone was quiet, and the woman sat up to face him. A sad smile lifted part of her lip as she shook her head.

"I vus…avay."

"But where?" Utivich kept his voice level, but a hint of desperation had slipped through.

Shaking her head, Anya sighed as she took in his expression. "I's not vut you t'ink, Smit'zen."

"Then what was it?"

"Ve, vent for a valk, d'at is all." It hurt to lie to him, but she supposed a half truth was better than no truth at all. He knew it too, but didn't say anything. Just sighed, and shook his head at her.

Her eyes fell to the dashboard, and the rest of the night was spent in strained silence.

-

Eventually, darkness gave into light and the pair got up, neither of them having gotten any sleep the previous night. They stared at each other a moment, before Anya moved off him. Smithson winced as cold air hit him, guilt settling in his chest as she left the truck. Dropping his face against the cool glass of the window, he watched with tired eyes as she went around to the backyard.

Anya on the other hand, was contemplating her decision. True, it was probably not the safest, rational idea, especially with professionals in murder at her disposal, but damnit this was something she needed to do for herself. Pulling the gun from her hip, she rubbed the bruised area delicately.

Once again unaware of the figure in the window watching her with suspicion.

Wicki made a noise of disapproval as he saw her put the unloaded gun back in it's place. He dropped his eyes to the floor as she moved from the yard. Grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair, Wilhelm made his way out the door. Anya looked up at him from the steps, eyes almost completely blank except perhaps for the slightest omission of disgrace. He stared into the blue orbs a long moment before shaking his head, and continuing over to the truck.

His dismissal hurt, but the young woman thought nothing of it as she ran her finger over the outline of the gun. She had more important things to worry about.

A/N: This one's mostly filler-sorry- and I'm sorry for the long wait. I know I suck, I'm sorry. But all will become clear in the next chapter, I promise.


	12. Chapter 12

"I'm coming with you."

Anya looked up at the man in the doorway, "Vut? Nyet."

"Yes."

"Nyet."

Hugo shook his head, glaring at her. "I said I am coming, and that's final."

"I yem not leyttle gi_r_l!" She snapped, standing from the step. "I can-"

"I won't interfere in your business, Miss Ledsen." His teal eyes softened at her, "I just don't want to see a woman such as yourself…" Stiglitz trailed off, remembering how Hanna would look up at him with angry eyes, the same glimmer of distress under the surface. He moved a strand of hair from Anya's face. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you, Miss Ledsen."

Tilting her head, she sighed as his hand fell to his side. "I vill be okay."

"I'd like to be sure." He said, tone stiff as she stood. There was a brief pause while Anya thought it over. She supposed it would be safer if he stayed with her, and nodded.

"Okay."

"When are we leaving?" Hugo asked, watching her fingers once again go to her hip. He eyed the unnatural bulge with knowing annoyance. She shouldn't have been drawing attention to that. Slipping his hand over hers, he pulled it down.

Just as Smithson got out of the truck. Looking at their joined hands, Anya pulled away quickly when he glared at them. The young man let out a scoff before shuffling in the house. Hugo heard the sigh escape her throat, and turned to look at her.

"I wouldn't worry over him. He'll come around."

Her blue eyes met his as she nodded sadly. She sat back on the step without another word as he made his way to the truck, where Wicki was watching the two of them with interest.

"What was all that about?" Wilhelm switched to his mother tongue as the German man approached him.

Stiglitz leaned back against the truck as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Thinking the question over, he lit one.

"Well?" Wicki looked at him expectant.

"Utivich needs to grow up," His comrade shrugged, inhaling the smoke as the man next to him quirked a brow.

"Is that so?"

"Mhm."

Wicki rolled his eyes, "are you going to expand on that?"

"No."

"Damn it, Hugo, this is serious!"

The German man rose a brow, "since when is the boy's love life suddenly my concern, Wilhelm?"

"I meant that girl! I saw you sneaking around with her last night!"

Stiglitz's face remained calm as the Corporal glared at him. "Is that so?"

"_Yes_," He hissed, "that _is_ so. You are going to tell me what is going on, and you are going to tell me right now!"

Running a tongue over his teeth, he shook his head. "I don't think so."  
"You don't?"

"I don't."

"Don't make me go to Aldo about this, Hugo. I want to help." Wicki's voice was guarded, but some concern shone through. "What's going on?"

His friend sighed, "I'll explain tonight. I'll need a translator anyway." Snuffing out his cigarette, Hugo left him to stare bewildered at the spot he had been leaning against.

Hours past, and soon the sun had begun to set once again. The men were tense, sensing the strain between the four of them as they once again went their separate ways. Aldo pulled the German men into a room to discuss it, and Anya viewed this as her chance.

She had just barely slipped out of the car when a voice stopped her.

"Anya?"

The girl froze, slowly turning to face him. "Y_e_s?"

Omar's face was confused in the dim light as he approached her, looking from her slender form to the truck questioningly. "Where ya goin'?"

"I-I…"

"You're sneaking out again aren't you?" His brown eyes shone sadly at her as she nodded weakly. "Ya know, whatever it is, we can help." A tentative hand ran through her red hair as she shook her head. But that didn't faze the young man, "sure, we can, Anya, we'd do anything for ya, you know that."

"I-" She sighed, looking at the road before looking back at him. "I need you to stay."

"But, why? I mean you'd be safer if-"

"I vill be _o_kay, Oma_r_." Her bottom lip quivered as she threw her arms around him, holding him tightly a moment. He blinked his surprise away just in time to put his arms around her before she pulled away. Anya gave his cheek an affectionate pat as she nodded toward the house. "You should go _in_side." He heard the gun cock before it was shoved in his face. "I don't vant you to get hu_r_t."

Omar's eyes stayed on hers, wide and pained as he shook his head. "Anya-"

"Go!" She shoved the barrel into his chest, ignoring the hot tears as they slipped from her blue eyes. The man backed away, sighing as he went back to the house. Casting one last, forlorn glance at her, he muttered, "We would've done it for you."

"I know." Anya bit her lip before fleeing the yard.

-

"Now, y'all gonna tell me what the hell is goin' on, and yer gonna tell me right now." Annoyance flashed through the lieutenant's eyes as he leered at the men in front of him. "Well?"

"Miss Ledsen is going to get her revenge tonight." Stiglitz said, a hint of nonchalance gracing his voice as Wicki's head snapped in his direction.

"That's what she's been so secretive about?!"

"Wants to do it by herself." He shrugged, looking at his superior officer as he paced in front of them. "She's rather self sufficient."

"And she di'n't mention this because… What? She thought we'd hold 'er back?" Aldo sighed as he shook his head, "ought'a know better than that-'s dangerous havin' a woman runnin' round the middl'a the night."

"Not to mention running around a known Nazi sympathizer." Wicki pointed out, glaring at the blond man who continued to look rather undisturbed by the whole matter. "And you were planning on accompanying her on this little endeavor?"

"Of course," He kept his voice steady as he offered Wilhelm an arched brow, "couldn't having her _running around_, as you sa-"

"_Lieutenant_!" The voice echoed up the walls, arriving moments before its owner. Omar burst into the room, Hirschberg and Zimmerman in tow as he panted. "Anya's gone!"

"Gone?" Aldo grit his teeth, glaring at Stiglitz, "Gone where?"

"I dunno- I dunno, she was in the truck then she pointed a gun at me, then-"

"She has a gun!?"

Hugo shrugged again, not getting up from his seat by the radiator, "it's not loaded."

"Oh, so if she needs it she's shit outta luck then, isn't she?!" A grunt of frustration slipped from his lips, as he pointed to the door, "Go get her, right now. Bring 'er back, and we'll sort this whole thing out before she goes and gets 'erself killed."

"Hm. Or…we could follow her and see how that goes." The men turned to Omar, slightly flushed in the face as Aldo seemed to mull it over.

"That could work…she thinks she's bein' all self sufficient, and we'd be there t'a help 'er out when she gets in'a jam." He scratched his scar absent mindedly. "Go wake up Donny, and Utivich."

-

Hiding behind the door has its advantages. First, if you're meager enough, no one suspects you are there. Second, people rarely check behind it, expect of course, small children.

Ignatius would've known this if he had ever spent any time with his son. But luckily for Anya, he didn't. Kicking the door closed, she didn't fight the smirk that came to her lips when he jumped. Spinning to face her, steel blue eyes wide, he gawked at her. He blinked in surprise a moment before letting out a chuckle, his charismatic persona taking over his best interest. "Mademoiselle Ledsen?"

The French was confident and smooth from his mouth, and it only rattled her further. The fact that it was her name, her _given_ name, only rubbed salt in the still open wound. As though he was still her _employer_, as though they were _friends_. She kept the gun at her side as he sat at his desk.

Emilen weaved his fingers together, feigning a smile as he tilted his head at her. "_Ya-il quelque chose que je peux vous aider avec_?" ("Is there something I can help you with?")

"_Vous savez pourquoi je suis ici_." ("You know why I'm here.")

"_Je_?" ("Do I?") He smirked at her stoic features. "_N'arriverait pas à faire avec ces fugitifs que vous receliez, cela_?" ("Wouldn't happen to do with those fugitives you were harboring, would it?")

"_Fugitifs_?" ("Fugitives?") Anya scoffed, "_ils étaient des enfants_!" ("They were _children_!")

_"Ils étaient des Juifs. Et ils couraient de la loi. Je faisais mon devoir civique_." ("They were Jews. And they were running from the law. I was doing my civic duty.") Ignatius slipped his eyes to the telephone, resting just left of his hand. Plucking the receiver leisurely from the hook, he eyed her a moment before raising it to his ear. A brief look of disappointment crossed his sharp features a moment before the smile was plastered back on. "_Coupez la ligne? Fille intelligente_." ("Cut the line? Clever girl.")

Anya shot him a mocking smile, keeping her eyes narrowed in a glare as he mimicked her expression. She tensed as he rose, adjusting his suit jacket as he stood. "_J'étais sous l'impression vous avez été gardés_." ("I was under the impression you were taken care of.")

"_Bien, j'étais sous l'impression que vous étiez sur notre côté_." ("Well, I was under the impression that you were on our side.")

The man rolled his eyes, licking his teeth as he leaned against his desk. "_Vous étiez toujours assez téméraires-_" ("You always were rather foolhardy-")

"_Il est pourquoi moi et votre femme est parti si bien_." ("It's why me and your wife got along so well.") Anya drawled, not taking her eyes from his, she asked, "_comment _est_ Marie_?" ("How _is_ Marie?")

"_Parfait, le merci_." ("Fine, thank you.") His smirk dampened at her follow up question.

"_Vous sûr de cela_?" ("You sure about that?")

"_Évidemment! Qu'impliquez-vous_?" ("Of course! What're you implying?") Finally noticing the Beretta, he froze as she smiled at him.

"_Été à la maison ce soir,_ Emilen." ("Been home tonight, Emilen?") She lifted it, just as easy as he had the receiver only moments ago.

"_Vous ne jamais_." ("You'd never.")

"_Peut-être je. Le chagrin fait les gens faire des choses idiots_." ("Maybe I would. Grief makes people do crazy things.") Her shoulders bobbed carelessly.

"_Être quitté si dramatique, Ledsen. Ils étaient juste des Juifs_." ("Quit being so dramatic, Ledsen. They were just Jews.")

Anger flashed through her eyes as a light streamed through the window. "_Ils étaient non seulement des Juifs, Ignatius! Ils étaient des enfants!_" ("_They were not _justJews_, Ignatius! They were _children_!_")

"_Les enfants qui évitaient la loi_." ("Children who were evading the law.") He stated, too calmly for her liking and Anya finally snapped.

"_En évitant le-"_ ("Evading the-") Gasping indignantly, the woman's hands began to shake as she began to scream at him. "_Comment l'enfer pouvez-vous simplifier que vous l'avez vraiment aimé ?! Ils avaient des familles et - et des amis et des noms_!" ("How the hell can you simplify what you did like that?! They had families and- and friends and names!") When he continued to stare at her passively, she began to feel a dull ache in her heart. He wasn't going to relent at all; she realized, wasn't going to apologize and why should he? Emilen didn't hold himself accountable. Well, she was damn well going to make him it. "_Vous souvenez-vous de leurs noms_?" ("Do you remember their names?") She asked, keeping the gun level with his chest, she felt her blood boil as he loosened his tie.

Shrugging carelessly, he answered. "_Je ne peux pas peut-être me souvenir de chaque_-" ("I can't possibly remember every-")

"_Leurs noms! Isaac, Emmanuelle, Madeliene!__Dites-les_!" ("Their names! Isaac, Emmanuelle, Madeliene! Say them!") The barrel of the gun collided roughly with his chest as she gouged him with the Beretta.

"Isaac. Emmanuelle. Madeliene."

"_Vous souvenez-vous d'eux du tout, ou avez-vous effacé leur mémoire aussi ? Ils n'étaient pas différents que les autres enfants à cette école, Ignatius_!" ("Do you remember them at all, or have you erased their memory as well? They were no different than the other children at this school, Ignatius!")

-

"What're they sayin'?" Aldo asked, looking at Wicki as the Basterds crowded around the door.

Wilhelm shushed him, "She's confronting him about the children."

"What children?" Omar asked, but was quietly silenced by a look from his lieutenant.

-

"_Madeliene était six_." ("Madeliene was six.") Anya's voice dripped with venom, her grip on the gun tightening as she seemed to compose herself. "_Vous avez un fils cet âge, droit? Andre_?" ("You have a son that age, correct? Andre?")

"_N'y comparez pas mon fils_-" ("Don't compare my son to that-") Emilien froze, but the fire stayed in his eyes. She had the gun pressed into the lapel of his jacket, hovering above his heart.

"_Cela que_?" ("That what?") The woman asked, tilting her head as he glared at her. Ignoring the shaking in her hands, she went on, "_comment vous se sentir, si quand vous êtes revenus à la maison ce soir, Andre a reçu une balle dans la tête_-" ("how would you feel, if when you got home tonight, Andre was shot in the head-")

"_Fait taire_."("Shut up.")

"_Et fait traîner dans les rues_," ("And dragged out into the streets,")

"_Fait taire!"_ ("Shut up!") He was beginning to panic, but she continued.

"_Pour le monde entier pour voir_." ("For the whole world to see.") Tears, hot and bitter slipped from her blue eyes as he snapped.

"_J'ai dit fait taire_!" ("I said shut up!") Emilen's arms shot out, reaching for her, too drunk on his rage, and her threats to notice the hand at her waist, and the knife just out of view. She'd been waiting for this, but found herself not completely prepared for his violent reaction, and quickly slashed at him with the bowie's blade.

Letting out a cry of pain he jerked away from her, "_vous petite chienne_!" ("you little bitch!")

"_Je vous vous poignarderai la fois suivante baisant le fils "d'un_-" " ("I'll stab you next time you fucking son of a-")

She didn't turn away from him as the door opened behind her, hating the look of relief that crossed his features at the sight of the men.

"_Officiers_," ("Officers,") Ignatius chuckled, fighting the hiss of pain as he delicately pressed his fingers along the gash, long and thin, across his chest. "_Vous pouvez enlever la fille_." ("You can remove the girl.")

Aldo gently put his hand on her shoulder, eying her quivering hands sympathetically as she continued to cry, panting unevenly. "Alright, Anyeh, that's enough."

The Headmaster paled at the language, steel blue eyes shooting from her to the soldiers. "_Que_-?" ("What-")

"_Pourquoi m'avez-vous signalé_ ?" ("Why did you report me?") Her voice was quiet, sullen, as she continued to point the unloaded gun at him. "_Nous serions partis le jour suivant_." ("We would have been gone the next day.")

"_Ils allaient me tuer, Anya_." ("They were going to kill me, Anya.")

Utivich cringed at the sound of her name on his lips, and gently took his place beside her.

"_Alors vous devriez être morts_." ("Then you should have died.") The Russian attempted to compose herself again, but only ended up choking on her sob. "_Au moins alors il aurait été avec un peu de respect. Un peu de dignité."_ ("At least then it would have been with some respect. Some dignity.") Her hand reached inside her pocket, pulling out the photos as she spat at him, "_ces enfants ne l'ont pas reçu. Je ne l'ai pas reçu!"_ ("these children didn't receive that. _I_ didn't receive that!")

Donny grabbed the man by the collar, and he and Hugo hauled him back behind the desk.

"You know what sit down means?" Aldo asked, earning a petrified nod from the French man. The Lieutenant smirked, "then sit down." He snuck a glance at the fuming woman, motioning for her to continue when she looked to him for approval. Anya moved to the desk, and placed the photos one by one in front of him.

"Emmanuelle. Madeliene. Isaac. Andre."

"_Ramassez-le_." ("Pick it up.") He demanded, but she only shook her head at him, biting her lip as her tear stain cheeks chilled her from the night air.

"_Non. Je veux la dernière chose que vous voyez jamais pour être les enfants que vous avez effacés. Les vies que vous avez ruinées, parce que vous êtes un lâche baisant."_ ("No. I want the last thing you ever see to be the children you erased. The lives you've ruined, because you're a fucking coward.") She set the knife carefully on the table, running her finger along the blade a moment, before looking up at him. "_Alors je vous veux à la fente votre gorge vaine, parce que je ne veux pas votre sang sur mes mains." _("Then I want you to slit your worthless throat, because I don't want your blood on my hands.")

"_Il sera_." ("It will be.") Emilen eyed the Little Man as he gently put his hand on her back, "_si vous le faites il vous hantera." _("if you do this it will haunt you.")

"_Je suis déjà hanté_." ("I'm already haunted.") Anya murmured, leaning subtly into Smithson's touch. "_Faites-le maintenant_." ("Now do it.")

"_Non_." ("No.") The men around them tensed, not entirely sure what was going on, listening intently as Wicki translated the brisk version for them. Utivich slipped his hand over hers, pulling the gun from her weak grasp as she began to sob.

"_Faites-le_." ("Do it.") She repeated, throat sore and voice horse as she let go.

Omar put his head down, as did Zimmerman as tears continued to fall down her pale cheeks. Utivich stole a glance at Aldo, who nodded. Moving closer to her still, he pulled her arm lightly. "Come on, sweetheart."

"No," The girl went to move from his hold, but didn't really want to. His touch was comforting, and she could feel herself falling apart. And the last thing she wanted was for Emilen to see her weakness. Even though she felt he already had. Anya turned her head to him, unable to meet Smithson's eyes as he looked down at her. "Not unteel z'ey get retro-beaushun. Leeke I did."

"They will." He promised, causing her to look up at him finally. He pulled her against his chest as Donny clamped a hand down on Ignatius' shoulder.

"Utivich, take Miss Anyeh outside." Aldo said, a hint of an order in his tone as he eyed the slender man, still bleeding, behind the desk. "We'll take care'a 'im."

Anya nodded, allowing herself to be led out the door. They heard the man's screams before they were at the end of the hall, and satisfaction filled the girl as she brushed some tears away. The many that followed seemed to linger as they eited the school building. Smithson sighed, sitting down on the steps.

"I yem zorry, Smit'zen."

"Why didn't you tell me what was going on?" He looked up at her, watching sadly as her shoulders bobbed in a helpless shrug.

Anya wrung her hands as she spoke. "I-I z'ought I vus…g'od, to do it."

"You wanted to do it by yourself, I get that, but you could've been killed, Anya!" He hadn't meant to snap, and he buried his head in his hands as she sat next to him.

"Smit'zen." There was a crack in her voice, "I should have been strong enough to finish him, but I vusn't. I yem zorry, you had to."

"You're not a killer, Anya." He moved closer to her, and she moved to lean into his chest. "It's not a bad thing." Smithson stroked her hair softly, sighing in contentment as she moved into his shoulder, her breathe warming his neck. "You're too sweet to hurt anyone Anya. It's why I l-" He cleared his throat, "like you so much. You know, as a friend of course."

The words stung slightly, but she brushed them aside. It had been a long night, but she felt considerably better than she had before. Liberated, somehow by the events that had transpired. "Of course, Smit'zen?"

"Yes?" Her eyes shone up at him, the last tears having fallen moments ago, and he flushed as her lips gently grazed his jaw. Letting them linger there a long moment, Anya pulled away from him, cupping his face. They kept their gaze, and she leaned back in to kiss his cheek. She moved in the last second, narrowly grazing the side of his mouth. She blushed as Smithson smiled, and she pulled away quickly.

"Zorry."

"It's okay." He brought a hand up to cover hers.

"Z'ank you, Dorogay moy."

Utivich moved in to give her a proper kiss, and was only inches from her face when excited hollers tore through the air. Donny slammed the door open, grinning at the couple on the steps. Giggling sadistically he looked down at Anya. "That was fun!"

She smiled tightly at him, standing as the rest exited the school. Utivich wasn't so quick to move, but eventually did follow them to the truck.

"Smit'zen?"

"Yeah?"

She weaved her fingers with his, beaming at him as the moved toward the vehicle. Shaking her head, Anya didn't say anything.

A/N: Okay, this one took me forever, and I'm sorry for the delay, I know it sucked. But I had a lot of problems with my computer (internet esp.), and I just needed some time. My Canary series is being a pain in the ass (again having problems point a to b type stuff), but I have high hopes that a new chapter should be up in a few days. I expect reviews for this chapter, because of the wait and because of the demands I got for it in my other story, 9 crimes. Also, I used a different translator this time, so some one tell me how that worked, and if the Russian term of endearment was okay.

Alright, peace out-p.s may do an Avatar one shot in the future, just cause I'm pumped for the movie.


	13. Chapter 13

The ride back was loud and filled with what could almost be described as festive glee. A feeling of excitement floated through the air electrically, each man succumbing to it with little need for persuasion.

Hugo was being uncharacteristically vocal, voicing his opinion on just _what_ he had thought of the man they had… _left behind_, grinning despite of himself as Donny repeated what he said…with considerably more vulgarity, of course.

It should be mentioned, however, that Omar's enthusiasm was somewhat false. Not that he in any way regretted what they had done. In fact, he viewed those few minutes in the dark room with a guilty man, perhaps some of the finest in his military career. His dark brown eyes flickered over to Anya, the odd man-girl, rather-out in the truck bed.

She hadn't said a word since they had left the school, a secret smile resting on her delicate features as she looked down at her fingers, cautiously entwined with Smithson's. Knees pulled up to her chest, her other hand held up her head as her eyes drooped heavily.

_Maybe she's just tired_, Omar mused, smirking as Hirschberg let out a yelp. Apparently in all the hubbub, Kagan had 'accidently' delivered a boot to Gerald's 'special area'.

Wicki had noticed the girl's disinterest as well, but was able to push his guilt away long enough to enjoy the infectious mood. The frustrating, important matters could be dealt with in the morning.

And they were.

After spending another night in the truck bed (one knife and unloaded gun later, of course), Anya blinked her eyes open slowly. Smithson's arm was secure around her waist, ensuring she wouldn't run off again, and she found her face buried in the rough material of his wool undershirt. At some point in the night he had draped his heavy jacket over the two of them, causing the girl to brush it away from her as she moved a little closer to him. The air was crisp, allowing her to watch small, steam like puffs of his breathe slip from his lips. Lifting a finger to his cheek, she ran it down his stubbled jaw as he slumbered innocently.

A smile pulled her pale lips as he rubbed his face roughly, trying to rid himself of whatever was toying with him, with a weak noise of annoyance. Hearing this, she tucked her hand to her chest.

Maybe that's all she was to him, she considered, an annoyance. English still alluded her slightly, but she knew enough to know that he had shut her down the previous night. At the time, Anya was too drunk on relief to care about the rejection, but now it weighed heavily on her heart. Tasha had told her once about love.

"_It tears you up inside and you never want it to stop." _She had then begun to rant about whatever boy she had happened to be seeing at the time, and the younger sister effectively tuned her out.

The whole process was rather curious. This odd, unwelcomed dance they had been forced into. Anya let out a silent sigh. She really had come to rely on these men, and she found it slightly unsettling. They could have gotten rid of her, whether it be by aggressive force or simply dropping her off at the Russian boarder or a French church, easily long ago. But they hadn't. The Basterds kept her around, worried about her, fretted over her. The only other men who had cared for her this much had been her immediate family.

Smithson had sisters, perhaps he had simply lumped her into the category along with them. God, she hoped not. Or perhaps he had a girl back home. In _America_…hundreds of thousands of miles away from _Russia_. But he hadn't responded that way- in fact for a moment Anya was certain the man was going to return her affection until Donny, (yes she knew his name was actually Donny and not Denya, she wasn't completely dense) interrupted him.

Blue eyes peeked open at her just moments before Aldo's voice cut through the tent. "Alright, love birds, saddle up!"

They rolled apart, a distinct blush on Smithson's face as he realized how close they'd been. Sharing a glance, the two of them stepped down from the truck, coming face to face with the men. The young man went to comfort the girl-her stricken features hardly masking her fear- but his lieutenant would have none of it.

"You," he pointed to him, "there." This time his finger was directed towards Donny, only momentarily before he beckoned Anya to him. "come 'ere."

She did as she was told, soon standing only a foot from him. Her teeth latched onto her bottom lip as she looked up at him. His eyes softened considerably, and he took it upon himself to change his tone.

"Now, Anyeh," Sturdy hands were placed on her shoulders as Aldo spoke, "it ain't like we're mad at ya." His tone as light, but still quite serious. "Just disappointed."

Tears welled in her eyes as they widened. She was biting her lip so hard now it was close to bleeding, and all she could think of was her mother. Dear lord, Aldo had become her mother. Her taller, butcher, Southern, considerably more masculine, mother. And she'd disappointed her-**him**.

"Where'd ya get the gun?" He asked, ignoring the odd way she was looking up at him.

"D'he…uh-d'he…" She made a pitiful motion with her hand, pumping her wrist upwards as she curled her fingers into her palm. It was no luck, so she simplified it. "D'he t_r_uck."

"And why did you think we'd jus' let ya run off in the middle'a the night to feed it to some Nat-zi scumbag?" 

"Vut?"

"Nuthin'," he shook his head, raking a hand through his dark hair as she continued to look up at him, sadly. "Don't do it again. And no more pointin' guns at Omar-he's too sensitive fer that."

An indignant "_Hey_!" came from the man in question, but Aldo ignored him, choosing to go on instead of addressing his declaration. "And no more secrets."

"Secrets?" Her blue eyes sparkled at the new word, but he shook his head.

"Next time you wait. You ain't allowed to go runnin' off on us anymore, you got that sol-m'am?" The man had forgotten who he was speaking to for a moment, almost letting an odd formality slip. When had Anya integrated herself into the Basterds? A noise of confusion drifted from his scarred throat as he looked down at her. "Yer gonna tell us everything, ain't cha?"

"Yes." She whispered, nodding as she sniffled back her tears.

Aldo smiled softly down at her, "Like I said, girl, ain't like we mad at 'cha. We know you had good intentions." He lifted a brow, clearing his throat slightly as she continued to give him a watery stare. "Now, you wanna hug me or'd you get all yer huggin' out with Utivich?"

The girl's grip was vice like around his waist, and a series of amused chuckles came from his men as Aldo flushed. One voice stood out in particular.

"Aw."

Blue eyes snapped to the source of the sound. "Shut yer mouth, Donowitz! This is why nobody likes you!"

"Anne-yeah likes me." Donny's tone was breezy as he asked, "don't ya Anne-yeah?"

"No, Denya."

The Bear Jew let out a scoff of annoyance as the men's laughter was now directed at him. "Damnit."

A beat past before Aldo began to shuffle. "You can let go now."

She didn't, choosing instead to grip him tighter and mumble broken apologizes in both English and Russian. A hiccup escaped her throat as she continued to hold him close.

"Alright-alright-Anyeh-Anyeh, that's enough-" Blue eyes shot to Smithson, who remained impassive about the man's discomfort. The lieutenant's gaze sharpened and he pulled the girl from him with sturdy force. She blinked at him a moment before hiccupping again. She wasn't crying, or anything of the sort. It seemed she was simply upset.

"Now yer gonna tell us everything that led up to us."

"Vut?"

"Us finding you." He rephrased, patting her shoulder as he pulled down the truck bed.

"Oh, o_kay_, vell…vere do I start?"

"How 'bout with these kids I been hearin' so much 'bout?" Aldo cast a look in Wicki's direction as the young woman moved to sit on the truck bed. The men gathered a little closer to her as she nodded.

"O_kay_."


	14. Chapter 14

Although she felt slightly crowded, the young woman began to rely her tale to the troop as they looked on at her expectantly, like a group of small children would a librarian at story time. It was rather unnerving, but she spoke regardless.

"Vell, ven I come to_ Frankrike, _d'e Gelle_r_s v'e_r_e d'ha_r_e." Anya pointed to a house just across the street, "d'ey vere D_ror _and Batel, d'ey have…" She blinked, making a frustrated roll with her wrist, "boy?"

"You mean son. They have a son." Smithson offered, earning a nod from the girl.

"Son, yes. Isaac. He vus," She clicked her tongue, absently counting off numbers in English before deciding on the proper one. "Seeks."

"Se-" Omar flushed, nodding as he corrected her, "six."

"Is vut I say." Her blue eyes rolled at him.

"No it wasn't. You said _seeks_. That's not even-"

Aldo looked down at the young man, silencing him effectively as Donny cut in, "so what, ya managed t'a move in t'a the only Jewish community in France?"

"Vut?"

"Shut it, Donowitz." The lieutenant nodded to her.

Anya tilted her head slightly. "D_ror_ vo_r_ked by _R_oman-"

"Wait," Smithson sat up a bit straighter, "Roman's here?"

"Who's _Roman_?" Zimmerman asked.

The air wasn't quite as serious as it had been the night before, but the men could tell Anya wasn't very thrilled with them paying so much attention to her. She shuffled awkwardly on the truck bed, trying to get comfortable, and remember the words the Basterds had taught her.

"_R_oman is mine," she shrugged, not acknowledging the stunned silence that settled over the group. They all seemed to shot accusing glares in Smithson's direction simultaneously.

The young man scoffed, "He's her brother!"

"Oh." "Yeah." "_Sure_, he is."

That last one was from Hirschberg, and Stiglitz gave him a harsh smack to the back of the head. A fine brow lifted in their direction, Anya hesitantly went on.

"I vo_r_ked at z'he…" she nodded down the road, ignoring her missing word as she continued, "vhe_o_e I vus vith Emmanuelle, d'en Madeline." The woman cleared her throat as her eyes moistened, "Ve deed not know how bad it vus until D_r_o_r_ vus…vus-" Rubbing her eyes, she paused to collect herself. "dis ve_r_d I do not know. Roman came vith him, ve_r_y bad. Lots of…"

Aldo watched her rake her hand through her red hair in frustration, and a twinge of sympathy went through him. Maybe making her do it in English was a bad idea… "Lots of what?"

Her face stayed focused on her lap a moment before it rose, blood shot eyes flickered to each man. They settled on Donny, and she pointed to him. "d'hat."

The group looked at him, still coated in sweat and grime from the night before, they realized what stuck out about him pretty quickly; the blood.

"It vus eve_r_y ve_r_e. Sca_r_ed Isaac, sca_r_ed _Batel_. He vouldn't go back to vo_r_k. She vould let him. Isaac vus same, not as bad, but same." Her eyes narrowed as her tone became less shaky, shifting into a bitter one. "Emilien (_ebanatyi pidaraz_) vus z'he one vith d'he pape_r_s. Ve got d'em, and ve_r_e going to vait until z'he Ge_r_mans left z'he city. Z'hey deedn't, and d'he Nazis kept coming to d'em."  
The Basterds attention was kept on her, a quiet coming over them that was unsettling.

But Anya went on, not making eye contact with any of them as she continued to speak barely above a murmur. "_R_oman vent back fo_r_ me, 'e vus bringing Tasha and Pavel fo_r_ show."

"What'dya mean fer show?" Aldo asked.

A shrug hung over her slight shoulders. "I yem too young to be Emmanuelle's, but not Tasha. She vould be…" Her head nodded a confidant smirk on her face, "_r_ight."

"Right?"

"Yes, she is," The young woman paused again, quietly counting off in her head, "she is _seven_ olde_r_. She could be Emmauelle's mama. Pavel could keep his own, so it vould not be…d_if_fe_r_ent."

"Different?" Smithson looked up at her tired features, but she didn't look back.

Wicki shook his head, "It'd be odd for a Russian woman to cross the boarder with out a male member of her family, it'd be suspicious. She probably means Pavel could say he was Anya's brother, unlike Tasha who had to undergo a whole new identity in order to get the child out of the country." He cleared his throat, "'Sides it be a whole lot more suspicious if it was just two men."

"Why?"

"'Cause most men are enlisted or drafted over there. Makes sense that the women'd be coming back with children." Wick answered, glancing at Anya, who was blinking at him. "Is that right?"

"Most, yes. Batel and D_r_o_r_ ve_r_e one day, jus' gone. Isaac vus at school, ve deed not know until ve ve_re_ home." Her back straightened slightly, and her blue eyes hardened, "Claude vus same. Z'he girls ve_r_e he_r_e ve_r_y fast."  
"Madeliene and Emmanuelle." Aldo said, just to clarify. She gave a brisk nod of confirmation.

"Yes, d'ey a_r_e-_ve_r_e_ seesta_r_s." Anya voice dipped sullenly, and she stared into space a while before continuing. "Ve made arrangements to go z'ey next day. But it deedn't go."

Aldo rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, just as uncomfortable as the quiet men that were circled around the truck. "Because of Ignatius?"

"Da."

"They came that night, didn't they?" It was Stiglitz who spoke this time, watching as a stoic mask came over her features.

"Da."

"Then what?"

It was the lieutenant who had spoken, but his question remained unanswered. At least by Anya.

"I don't thinks she wants to talk about it." Wicki said, and Hugo was quick to agreed. Smithson took the more subtle approach, meeting her eyes when she glanced at him, and smiling softly.

"Well, that's just too damn bad-hey!" His retort was cut off as the girl stood. "What'cha thing yer doin'?"

"I yem not vanting to tuck, _no_."

"Come on, Anyeh," Aldo's voice was comforting and light, "you're almost done."

"Z'hey vere dere in d'he night." She turned her body toward the truck, not looking any of them in the eye as she closed her own. "Z'hey children vere pulled down d'he stairs and shot. Zen left in d'he streets."

Omar shifted uncomfortably at her cold tone, as did most of the other men as their lieutenant prodded a little deeper. "Then what?"

"Z'en I vus put in d'he truck." Anya said, her tone border lining between cold and simple as she made her way into the back of the truck.

"Nice goin', lieutenant."

The Apache rubbed his eyes, exhausted and more than annoyed. "Shut up, Donowitz."

"Maybe it's time we head back to camp, sir." Zimmerman suggested, looking in the truck, where Anya had tucked herself just out of view.

There was a small murmur of agreement from the men, and they soon found themselves in the truck. Donny took his typical place up front, and Zimmerman and Hirschberg stuck toward the truck bed itself. Omar sat between Wicki and Stiglitz, directly across from Smithson. Who was seat next to a silent, but not completely sullen Anya. Not completely sullen by the fact that she seemed totally unaware of their presence, staring rather uninterestedly at the wall of the truck as she rested her head against it.

The Little Man kept his eyes forward, and no one mentioned what they knew had happened to his…_friend_, by the hands of who-knew-how-many Nazis.

-

Hours later, the men were huddled around a raging fire. Wicki was looking over the pictures he had taken from Ignatius' office, ignoring the curious looks he was receiving for doing so.

Omar picked the fire over with a stick, glancing at his comrade with what he hoped was empathy. "Anya come out yet?"

"No," Utivich took a drink from his canteen. "Not yet."

"Oh." The young man cleared his throat awkwardly, "well, I'm sure she will."

"Mhm."

"Maybe you should check on her."

Blue eyes regarded him skeptically, "why? She obviously doesn't want to talk."

"Just because she doesn't want to doesn't mean she doesn't need to."

"Poetic."

A blush came over Omar's face, and he let out a quiet chuckle. "Yeah."

"Maybe you're right." Scratching the back of his neck, Smithson turned his head toward the tunnel.

"As usual."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get cocky about it, Ulmer." He stood, brushing some dirt from his palms onto his jacket.

The tunnel had a dark, musky quality to it that always left the Manhattan native feeling rather claustrophobic. Of course, Anya had taken to sitting directly in the middle of it, not seeming to mind the lack of light. Or the probability of those sounds he kept hearing were rats.

Shuddering, Smithson called out her name gently.

"Vut?" The voice was strained, and considerably closer than he expected. Jumping, he glanced down, but in the pitch black tunnel he couldn't see so much as an outline of the girl.

She could just barely see him though, the dim light of the fire giving his boots a shadow of a shine. Anya put her hand on one of them, then moved to tug on his pant leg.

The sensation jarred him slightly, but Utivich took a seat next to her regardless. "Anya?"

"Ja?"

"Are-are you okay?"

He still felt far away, and she found herself shuffling a little closer to the sound of his voice. "I yem…tired."

"Tired." He repeated, clearing his throat as her hand brushed his arm.

"Ja. Tired and…vut is verd…foolish." She sighed, her head rested on his shoulder. "Very foolish."

Smithson draped an arm over her narrow shoulders, pulling her closer until she was flush against him, hands resting in a clasped knot on his knee. "You're not foolish, Anya."

"I t'ink Claude and Batel vould-"

"Don't." His hand slipped to her hair, brushing it back as she shook her head. "They wouldn't blame you."

"D'is ve_r_d is new." It was, but she understood it. "I-vhy deed I t'nk somet'ing good could come from all d'is?"

"This is good." He said, smiling slightly, "what we have, it's good."

He moved into kiss her, but in the dark, it was a near impossible task. His lips hit her chin awkwardly, earning a small giggle from the young woman. A small hand cupped his face, and she ran her thumb over his stubbled jaw before bringing his lips down to hers.

It was chaste, innocent and sweet, barely lasting a few moments, but a shudder went through the American regardless. Anya brushed her lips against his softly, hardly grazing them after they parted.

Smithson grinned at her in the dark, completely unaware that the expression was being mimicked back at him as she nudged his cheek with hers.

"Ja." The woman nodded, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before resting on his chest, "is good."

The tunnel didn't seem quite so uninviting anymore.

A/N: This was a bitch to right. I kept tweaking and tweaking and tweaking and I'm still not completely happy with it. But I hope it was satisfactory to you all. My next Canary chapter should be up in a day or two, as should my next oneshot for 9 crimes (it is Stiglitz, but a lot of you aren't going to like it…its not as 'smutty' as the first one.)


	15. Chapter 15

"We won't be able to stay here much longer."

Aldo glanced at Wicki, who was still staring at those black and white photos. "I know."

"It's too cold. The men are used to it, but the girl isn't."

"I know." The Lieutenant repeated, rolling his eyes as the man still continued on.

"Too used to being in doors, even though her house was a bit drafty."

"Where is Anya anyway?"

Omar looked up from the fire, smirking slightly, "she disappeared into the tunnel a while ago."

The older man stared at his suggestive features before taking a quick count of his men. One was missing. Jumping to his feet, he mumbled a quick, 'goddamnit' before jogging over to the dark passage.

Meanwhile, the couple was sitting quietly in the damp space, not saying much but keeping close. Her hands were still resting on his knee and his arm was still wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her close to fight off the moisture…or at least that what he told himself. Smithson jumped at the bellow of his commanding officer's voice.

"Utivich, so help me god, you get yer ass outta that tunnel before ya get the little thing pregnant!"

"I was just being friendly!"

"Yeah well, be friendly where I can see ya!"

Anya let out a feminine giggle as she stood, pulling the man up as she went. Holding his hand a little longer than necessary, she gave his cheek a quick peck before moving toward the tunnel opening.

"Ya got to the count of five," Aldo warned, unaware that the young woman was being pulled back.

"One."

"Alyo vill not be-" Utivich's hands slipped around her waist, a sly grin crossing his face as he kissed her.

"Two."

Her thin fingers bunched up in his hair as she pressed against him. A low moan escaped his mouth and Anya took the opportunity to slip her tongue in his mouth.

"Three, you're pushin' it, solider."

Deeping the kiss, the young man ignored the warning as his fingers brushed over the soft material of her tan pants. Thumbing the pocket, all Smithson could think of was the warmth of her mouth.

"Fou-fuck it." Stomping was heard, and it didn't take long before Aldo ran smack into them. "The fuck-ya don't go doin' that in the middle'a a damn tunnel, Utivich! Show the girl ya got some class!"

"Sorry." He replied, sheepishly. A flush, thankfully invisible in the darkness, crept over his cheeks as Anya tucked her head into the crook of his neck. Heat radiated off her own skin as well.

The lieutenant's hand flew out, but instead of giving the desired effect (striking fear in the heart of Utivich), it whapped against the concrete walls. Wincing, he growled, "Outta the tunnel!"

-

The pair couldn't have looked more guilty as they stood in front of Aldo. After he checked and made sure Anya, did in fact, have all her clothes on, and that none had been removed, he gave them stern instructions that they were not to be. Under any circumstances.

"I don't care if she's on _fire_, she's gonna be on fire with 'er blouse on, you got that?!"

"That seems a little drast-"

"Do not question me, boy, so help me god I got half'a mind ta drop 'er back in Russia jus' ta spite ya!"

"Why haven't you?"

It was Wicki who had spoken, and the men all looked to the Apache for an answer. Baffled he stood there a moment as Anya shuffled a little closer to Smithson, the grip on his hand a little tighter. Blue eyes dropped to them momentarily before going back to Wicki.

"Well?"

"Don't question my decisions, Wicki, just shut up and follow orders." A glare flew in Aldo's direction but he ignored it. Huffing he said, "We keep 'er round for morale."

"Hm."

Omar shot a look at Wilhelm, "You know what, no one asked you."

The older man rolled his eyes, "I'm not trying to upset anyone," he sighed, "but after everything that's happened, maybe she'd be safer back with her family. She said herself that she had family near the boarder."

"No."

This time it was Smithson. His normally relaxed tone carrying an edge to it as he pulled the girl into his side. His eyes went from the German, to Omar to Aldo. "She's not going anywhere."

"Well." His commanding officer smiled slightly, disguising it as a smirk as the topic was dropped. "You heard the boy."

Wicki's brown eyes went back to the pictures, and he wordlessly tucked them into his pocket.

-

Night was starting to fall on the Basterds camp, and the tension from earlier had all but evaporated. Anya was wedged securely between Omar and Smithson, who had taken to shielding her from Wilhelm. Much to her annoyance.

Her head rested on her hand, she used the other one to wave at him as he stared at her. Hugo and Donny sat a few metres away, cleaning their weapons and discussing the daily drama.

"You think he's right?"

"Who?" Donny asked, quirking a lazy brow as he spun his rifle over in his hands.

"Wicki."

The American shrugged, "I guess. I mean, it was no big deal havin' 'er around when nobody knew 'bout 'er, but people are gonna catch on."

"What?" Stiglitz blinked at him.

"Well, I mean, what if people clue in that she was in on it? Her boss gets killed after handin' 'er over to'a bunch'a Nazis? That's kinda suspicious ain't it?"

Hugo nodded. "People will come looking for her."

"_Nazis_ will come lookin' for 'er." Donny said, a hint of defeat in his voice, "she ain't safe with us no more."

"Assuming they find her."

"Assuming they find _us_."

A pink tongue ran over white teeth as the German nodded, "no doubt word of her presence among the Basterds has spread through the SS."

"None."

"But they could also know about her little plan and her brother."

Donny nodded, a satisfied look on his face. "And where he's hidin' out with that dame, Tasha."

"Exactly."

"So, she's just as safe here as she is there."

"Exactly." Hugo smirked. "No need to get rid of her so quickly when we can keep a proper eye on her, right?"

"Right."

-

The fire's light lit up the pale features of the young woman, and gave her red hair a fiery glow as Wicki gazed at her.

"Ulmer, Utivich." The men looked at their superior, "it's yer watch."

Smithson opened his mouth to protest, but a stern look silenced him. The girl offered him a small smile and a peck on the cheek (to which Aldo gave a gurgle of discontent) before letting his hand go. Omar was a tad hesitant in his good-byes, and chose the lieutenant's personal favorite dismissal of her; patting her on the head like a dog.

Anya stared at him. "Vhy-"

"I'm sorry, I panicked." He said hastily, electing a round of chuckles from his friends.

The pair disappeared, waving half heartedly to the two Basterds still cleaning their weapons, and were carefully not to step over the dozing members. Zimmerman made the younger two sleep on opposite ends of the hill because Hirschberg was still a little upset about Kagan's causal shot to his groin.

He claimed he had yet to receive an apology.

No one believed him.

Anya's eyes went back to Wicki's as the Apache took a seat between the two.

"Now." He rubbed his hands together, "We're gonna talk this out like adults. Anya, you can pretend yer one fer now."

A disgruntled sound escaped her throat, but she didn't question it. "Vhy am I not in _R_ussia?"

"Do you wanna be in Russia?" Aldo countered. She bit her lip, and he went on, "thought so."

"But it's safer-"

"No, Wicki, it ain't. We don't know where she's goin' where ta drop 'er off, who we'd be leavin' er with." The man raked a hand through his dark hair as he sighed, "can't jus' let 'er fend for 'erself, Wick."

"I know but what happens if something goes wrong and she ends up in the back of a another Nazi truck?" Wilhelm shook his head, "things can go wrong so easily."

"I vould like to stay." The girl muttered, swallowing the lump in her throat, "I vould be verrying about you."

The men glanced at each other as she wrung her hands in her lap.

"Utivich'd never forgive us."

"We really don't know anything about Russia."

"Nazis'd have ta go through us ta get ta 'er."

"Her sewing skills have been rather beneficial."

"Shuts Donny up."

They nodded. "Let's keep 'er."


	16. Chapter 16

"Oh, no, no, no, no." Aldo shook his head, in sequence with the hand on her shoulder. Anya gave a soft noise of annoyance as he prodded her awake. "Up ya go."

"Vut is problem?"

"No problem," He stood and pulled her to her feet as well, "yer sleepin' in the truck, little lady."

Hazy blue eyes blinked up at him as Wicki chuckled somewhere in the background. "Vut?

"The truck." The older man repeated, guiding her unsteady legs toward the vehicle. "Just for ta'night, ta'morrow were relocatin'."

"_Vut_?" Where was she? What time was it? Why couldn't she have stayed on the ground?!

Soon enough the girl found herself being lifted into the truck bed, but she paid Aldo no mind as she slumped onto the cool metal. Fast asleep.

"Well," The lieutenant blinked as he looked at Hugo and Donny, "that was easier than expected."

"She's had a rough couple days," Stiglitz said.

A suggestive smirk crossed Donny's lips, "I bet all that time spent with Utivich has been real _rough_ on 'er."

The older men shared a disapproving glance in the darkness, but it was Aldo who spoke. "She's a nice girl, Donny."

"Yep. A nice _young_ girl, and Utivich is a _nice_ young man, and together they have a _really_ nice time."

"Cryptic mother fucker," Aldo muttered, making sure the Bear Jew could hear him.

"Look," Donny said, exasperated, "you think he doesn't think about hittin' that?"

"Donny!"

"What? Hell, I'm thinkin' about it, and I'm not even all touchy feely with 'er, so he's _gotta_ be thinkin' 'bout it."

-

Smithson was met with a stern glare and the cold shoulder when he arrived back at the camp. Omar lifted a brow at him as Wicki snickered.

"What'd you do?"

"I…" He sighed, "I have no idea."

"Pack your stuff," Aldo ordered, nodding toward the boys possessions, as few as they were, "grab Anyeh's violin while yer at it."

"We're leaving?" The Little Man asked, picking up his pack.

"Yeah, we're headin' over ta the OSS station house."

Omar shoved some of his clothes in his bag as he asked, "Station house?"

"Well," The older man scratched his scar, "it's not so much a station house as much as it is a friend's. You 'member the Bristows?"

"That British couple we stayed with last winter?" He grimaced at the memory, "we're not-"

"Yes we are."

"Aw. But they eat the weirdest shit, sir!"

Aldo mimicked his expression, "I know. But they're nice people."

Gregory and Lucy were nice people. Older, in their late sixties, Lucy was perhaps a bit too adventurous in the cooking department. Perhaps a bit too harsh on the young men, but Greg usually snuck them something half decent to eat and could calm Lucy with but a look.

Thank god he could too, 'cause lord know she took no shit from Aldo.

"We usually don't head out there 'til December." Smithson said, "Why are we leaving so early?"

"'Cause we got an impressionable young woman stayin' with us, and I will not be responsible for 'er pregnancy, Utivich!" The tone had started out simply dictating but had shifted into a tirade by the end of it. Taking a deep breathe, he locked eyes with the younger man, "And?"

"And what?"

Wicki leaned in, closer to the young man as he pulled his pack over his shoulder. "This is where you say you won't be responsible for her pregnancy, either."

"Oh, god, for the last time," his eyes flickered to Omar a hint of frustration in his voice, "nothing happened in the tunnel."

"That's a bare faced lie son."

"I _knew_ it!" Omar shrieked, pointing accusingly at him, "I _knew_ it!"

Smithson rolled his eyes, of course he should've known better; lying to the human lie detector that is Aldo 'The Apache' Raine.

The German chuckled. "Nothing too serious I hope."

"Anyeh's a nice girl." Aldo stated, "and Utivich, she's gonna stay that way."

"I'm not going to get her pregnant." The young man said, "Promise."

"Blouse stays on."

"Blouse stays on." Utivich repeated.

Omar glanced around, "where is Anya, anyway?"

"Sleeping." Wilhelm supplied, nodding toward the truck. "We've been waiting for you."

-

The truck was almost full when Omar and Smithson entered it. The men were asleep, with Donny sprawled out in the middle(Ulmer had been the first to enter the truck, and therefore the first to trip over him).

A quick glance with blue eyes found Anya, sleeping soundly tucked into Hugo's side. They narrowed slightly at the sight of them, remembering how Stiglitz had kept the girl's devious agenda to himself while she rushed off to get herself killed.

But perhaps there was a hint of jealousy as well. Not that he'd ever admit that of course. He kept quiet as he crawled into the truck, ignoring Omar's snicker as he, too, tripped over the Bear Jew.

-

Anya wasn't sure what she was expecting, but she was pleasantly surprised by the Bristow's small farm. It was the only house for miles, the house almost as big as the barn a few yards away.

The restless sleep in the truck had left light bags under her eyes, and she was sure her hair was mused, as it typically was.

Perhaps this is why the elderly woman was gawking at her so obviously. "Dear lord, Aldo, what've you done?! She's looks like hell warmed over!"

A pang went to her ego, and she crossed her arms indignantly as the man next to her chuckled. A sharp glare shot up at Hugo as he lit a cigarette.

"She's don't look that bad," Aldo drawled, blushing slightly as Lucy slapped the girl's hands down, her own squeezing Anya's sides.

"She's skin an' bones!"

The Apache sighed, looking at Gregory for help as the girl tried to fumble out of the older woman's grasp.

"Stay still!"

"Luce…"

Her stare snapped to her husband, and with an annoyed sigh, she stop fussing over her. "Fine, come along then, let's get you fed."

An arm was wrapped around her shoulder, and Anya struggled to keep the fear off her face. Omar had told her things…terrible things, about Lucy's cooking.

"Ya know, I never figured this'd be harder on Anyeh than us." Aldo scratched his scar.

Greg laughed, although it seemed slightly forced as he glanced at the women, "well, Lucy always wanted a daughter."

"You never mentioned that."

"You never mentioned that she was an adult." The older man smirked, "honestly you described her as though she was twelve."

"Well, lookit 'er! She could pass fer twelve!"

Hugo shook his head, "I disagree."

"As do I." the Brit shook his head, "well, best rescue the poor thing before my wife force feeds her something poisonous."

A grimace past over the others faces as he went into the house. "You don't think..."

"Yeah, I do." The Apache groaned, "Shouldn't you be unloadin' the truck, sergeant?"

"Yes, sir."

The man went back to his comrades, and Aldo went into the house.

He took one look at Anya's face, and winced. "I'm so sorry."

She glared at him, ignoring his apology as Lucy tugged a brush through her red hair.

"-Always so dirty, really it's no surprise you don't take care of yourself, not that I blame you dear, it's all that bloody American's fault. I bet you clean up just lovely, oh, you just wait until I take you into town- you do know how to speak French don't you dear? Oh of course you do, Aldo told Gregory you do, anyways, I always wanted a daughter, we'll take you into town and buy you some proper clothes. Honestly Aldo, how could you put her in such rags?!"

Again his blue eyes met hers. "I am so, _so_ sorry."

A/N: Poor poor Anya.


	17. Chapter 17

"This just isn't working," Lucy declared, slapping the hair brush down on the table with more force than necessary. "You need a bath." She put her hands on the young woman shoulders, "come on, up you go."

Anya didn't protest, not just because that would be futile, but she found the idea of a bath…angelic. She supposed it had to do with being in the woods, under the watchful eye of ten or so men, washing in a river-

Damn well made a bath tub sound good.

-

A wince crossed her face, _god why did old ladies have such sharp nails?!_

-

Omar, Smithson, and Donny stared at the door, listening to the yelps and splashes that seemed to echo out of it.

"What'd ya think she's doin' to 'er?"  
"Lucy's probably drowning her." Omar said, slightly horrified as a shriek filled the air. "Oh, god, you think it's my fault?"

Utivich rose a brow, "why would it be your fault?"

"I warned her not to eat her cooking." Ulmer admitted, "And now Lucy's drowning her for being insubordinate."

A moment past before the other two agreed.

"Yeah."

"Definitely your fault."

Omar hung his head in shame.

-

"So," Greg exhaled, glancing at Aldo, "what's with the bird?"

The lieutenant shrugged, "boys like 'er. 'Sides, she's easy 'nough to get along with."

The two German men that sat at the table shared a look. Of all the Basterds, Aldo had, had the most fights with the girl.

Greg picked up on their smirks, "what?"

"Aldo hurt her feelings and banished her to the woods once."

"Shut up, Wicki, I did not!"

"Yes you did." Hugo said, nonchalant as he took a drag of his cigarette, "it was right before you made her cry."

"You made her cry?" Greg asked, feigning shock to get a rise out of the younger man.

"Utivich did first!" The Apache grunted as he shifted uncomfortably. Something about Gregory made him feel like he was being spoke down to by his father, "'Sides, I was jus' tryin' ta get some information outta 'er."

The Brit gave him a pointed stare, "what kind of information?"

"You know, personal stuff."

"Such as?"

"He tried to press for details of her rape." Stiglitz snuffed out his cigarette as Wicki came to Aldo's defense.

"Now, we don't really know that she's been-"

"Come on, Wil," Their commanding officer relented, a twinge of guilt in his voice, "you know as well as we do she has been."

The elderly man shook his head, "that's too bad. She seems like a nice girl."

"She is." The men agreed.

-

"Now, you stay here while I get you some clothes." Lucy patted her shoulder as she opened the door.

The men looked up and flushed at the brief image of Anya clad only in a towel. The older woman glared at them, closing the door tightly.

"Shouldn't you boys be getting ready for bed?"

"Waiting for the bathroom," Donny smirked, but it fell when her steel grey eyes set on him.

"Well use the one down stairs," she nodded, locking eyes with each boy, "all of you."

The oldest grumbled under his breathe, but did as directed, Smithson followed as well, until only Omar remained.

She gave him a pointed, serious look, but he didn't budge.

"You didn't drown her did you?

Lucy shook her head, "no."

"Oh," Omar nodded, "good."

The woman chuckled as he followed his friends down stairs. _And people think _I'm_ crazy._ She thought. Shaking her head for what had to be the fifteenth time that day, she sighed as she made her way down the hall.

Their bedroom was large, the largest in the house…though the bed took up most of the room. Smirking, she went around it to her wardrobe.

She much as she loved Greg, Lucy was never one to share closet space.

White teeth latched onto her bottom lip as she thumbed through the garments. Most of them would be too large for the child; Anya was a good eight inches shorter than her. They'd most certainly have to go into town.

A smile sprung to her lips and she pulled out a night gown. It would have to do…

For now.

Anya was looking at herself in the mirror when she reentered the bathroom. No, that was wrong. She was inspecting herself. Her head was tilted to the side, a scowl on her face as she pushed the damp red hair from her face.

Lucy watched her in the door way a moment, pensive, as the Russian rubbed her cheeks.

"Surprised there's a girl under all that dirt?"

She blushed, quickly dropping her hands to grip her towel tighter. "I vus just…"

"Primping?"

Large blue eyes blinked uncertainly at her, "Vut?"

"You know," the older woman set the nightshirt on the sink, moving to stand behind her. "Making sure you look good." Lucy pulled some of her hair back, taking in her own appearance, "so…is it for you or the boys?"

The colour rose on her face, a light pink, and she chuckled, "thought so…any particular one?"

"Smit'zen." Anya confessed, tugging at a strand as she looked up at Lucy in the mirror.

"Sm-Utivich."

Oh yes, Lucy remembered Mr. Utivich; the city boy who'd never seen a cow before…

"_Well that's what ya get for spookin' the poor thing," she chastised, watching him press an icepack to his swollen cheek._

An uncommitted noise came from her throat as she smirked, "you like him?"

"Da."

-

He shook some of the water from his hair. The shower had been a long time coming, and though the water had been cool it was well worth the wait. Utivich opened the door to his room and paused.

She smiled at him from the bed. Her legs crossed with her hands resting on her knees, Anya had taken precaution in case anyone else had come in. That is, her nightdress was covering her legs.

"Allo."

He raised a hand weakly, "hi." Clearing his throat, he approached the bed cautiously, wondering if he should shut the door.

"Alyo said I could stay vith you." Her eyes met his, "If you are vanting me to."

Smithson grinned at her, gently taking her hands from her knees, "oh, I am definitely _wanting_ you to."

They fingers weaved together, and she giggled, pulling him closer to the bed. Blue eyes gazed down at her adoringly, and she willed the blush to stray from her cheeks as he tucked a red lock behind her ear.

"It's redder now," The young man commented, his fingers caressing the crown of her hair before sliding them gently down her cheeks to cup her chin. "It's nice."

And her willpower broke, a light twinge of blush on her cheeks.

"Hey." They looked at Aldo, "this door stays open. And I'm right down the hall, so don't go tryin' anythin', got that, soldier?"

"Yes, sir."

The lieutenant snorted, and went down the stairs. He glanced at the elderly couple, his eyes widening as an epiphany hit him.

"Hey, Luce?"

"Mhm?" She didn't look up from her page, continuing to jot down anything the girl may need.

"Could you bake me a pie?"

"For what?"

Aldo didn't say much about it, and gave her a cryptic smile.

-

He ran his fingers carefully up and down her thigh as she dozed, completely unaware of his actions.

A light knocking stirred his thoughts, and his lover, and Utivich glanced at Wicki in the door way, the sun's early rays pouring through the window.

"What?" He whispered, letting Anya settle deeper into his chest.

"Aldo wants to speak with Miss Ledsen." Wicki kept his tone low, "and then she and Mrs. Bristow are going into town."

The young man sighed, gently rousing the girl from her slumber. "Fine."

Murmuring quietly, she sat up, pushing her night gown as she went. "Vut does Alyo vant?" she asked, following him down the stairs of the farm house.

"Not sure. Seemed important though."

Aldo was waiting for them at the kitchen table. "Anyeh."

"Alyo?" She blinked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she sat down. "Vut is vrong?"

"Nothin', not a thing. Wicki, have a seat." Aldo said. He did as instructed, "might need ya to translate somethin's."

"Alright…"

The older man stood, plucking a pie off the kitchen counter. He set it in front of her with marginal flare and sighed as he looked at her. "Wicki, translate this."

"Yes, sir."

"This pie…is your virginity."

Wilhelm's mouth fell open as Anya quirked a brow. "My vut?"

"Virginity, Wicki wil-"

"No," He shook his head. "No, sir, I will not."

"Yes, ya will Wicki or I'll make sit out in the woods with Donny for patrol tonight."

Blushing like a school girl he found himself unable to meet Anya's curious gaze as he quietly translated it for her. She stared at him a long moment.

"Vut?"

"Wic-"

The German shook his head firmly, "I repeated it once, I won't do it again!"

Shocked, and mildly disgusted, blue eyes flickered from Wilhelm to Aldo. "Vh-"

"Shut up and lemme finish, Anyeh," Aldo put his finger to his lips, ignoring the indignant glare he was receiving, "this pie is like your virginity."

Both of them blushed, and the girl twisted uncomfortably in her chair as Wicki sunk lower.

"Because, like a pie, every time ya give some away, ya can never get it back." He placed a hand on her shoulder, "not that ya could physically cut up yer virginity, that'd be impossible…or at least kinda painful-"

"I'm not translating that."

Again, Aldo rolled his eyes, "Shut _up_ Wicki." He went back to Anya, and her wide, confused stare, "what I mean is, whenever ya give away a piece'a yer pie-"

She prayed for death.

"Ya lose a little piece'a yerself."

Wicki did too.

"So don't give away none'a yer pie. Especially not ta Donny." There was a pause, as Aldo mulled something over, "or Utivich. In fact maybe ya should add'a chasisty belt to that list'a Lucy's."

"I'll do no such thing."

Anya jumped up, quick to the elderly woman's side. She clung to her hand like a child, pulling her towards the door, "time to go, yes?"

"Yes-" She grunted as the younger latched onto her pinky. Lucy shot an accusing glare to Aldo, "what did you do?"

"Nothin'."

"Mhm…well, darling," She set her eyes back on Anya's horrified face, "let's get you dressed."

She scampered up the stairs, changed quickly, and then rushed the elderly woman out of the house.

"I can't believe you did that."

"What?" Aldo crossed his arms defensively, "someone's gotta teach 'er 'bout the birds and the bees."

"Not that!" Wicki snapped, "I can't believe you didn't warn me! Honestly, it would've been a quick, _by the way, we're telling Anya about sex today!_ How hard is that?!"

"Who's teachin' Anya about sex today?"

They looked at Donny whose eyes lit up at the site of the pastry. "Sweet, pie-"

"_Don't even think about it!"_

A/N: Aldo's pie talk is probably one of my Crowning Moments of Awesome. I love that scene. Seriously. I waited so long to write it. God. I'm just sorry the first couple scenes were so spastic.


	18. Chapter 18

Shopping had always made Anya a little uncomfortable. Something about being naked in public was just off putting and quite frankly, unladylike. She eyed herself in the mirror as she waited for Lucy to return with another stack of clothes.

Bunching her nose in annoyed she absently counted the ribs that protruded from her sides. No wonder Lucy thought she was skin and bones. They were all there, in their horrifying glory.

And while she was on the top where the hell had her hips gone?! Sighing sadly, she stopped looking at her reflection. It was too disheartening and the last thing she need was Aldo giving her a speech on how she needed to love herself.

Or about anything else for that matter.

She giggled, wondering if Utivich was getting the same treatment.

-

"You woke her up at the crack of dawn to give her the talk?" Smithson asked, eyes wide as the men around him chuckled.

"Well, you two were awfully cozy when I came in this morning," Wicki said, smirking. He'd gotten over the shock some hours ago, "besides Lucy was ready to go."

"Lucy scares me." Omar confessed, poking his pie halfheartedly.

Greg shook his head, "you just don't know her."

"What kind of pie is this, anyway?" Hirschberg took another bite as the man smirked.

"Eel."

Needless to say the bite ended up all over the table. As did everyone else's, except Donowitz's.

-

"Are you alright, dear? You've been kind of quiet."

Of course, Lucy hardly knew the girl, and it could've just been her personality, but…call it intuition. Something was wrong.

"I yem very different now." Anya muttered, toying with the hem of the dress she was trying on, "smaller."

"Smaller how?"

She indicated to her hips and breasts with annoyance. "No vunder d'ey t'ink I am leytle gi_r_l." She huffed.

"I know it's hard dear, but they'll come back," the older woman put her hands on her shoulders, "you just have to give it time. Besides, if they only think you're a little girl because it gives them a reason to fuss over you." A smile twitched in the corner of her mouth as the woman smirked at her, "besides, Utivich doesn't think you're a little girl, does he?"

"Nyet."

"And he matters most right?"

"Ja."

"Then don't worry about it." Caring fingers brushed red hair from blue eyes, "he likes you just the way you are."

"Vill he still like me ven I yem not sc_r_awny like boy?"

"Yes." Lucy assured her.

Anya stared at her a moment before slipping her arms around her waist. Holding the woman tightly she muttered her thanks in Russia before going back to the change room.

Lucy smiled to herself as a twinge of sadness went through her.

-

Greg stared at Aldo, shaking his head in disbelief, "I can't believe he ate the whole thing."

The other man nodded, "yeah, Donny's always been kinda a lush."

"I can see that."

Most of the men were outside, doing yard work or the like in an attempt to earn their keep. Smithson was with Omar, somewhere in the basement moving boxes to make more space. There was no way he was going in that barn.

"So what's up with you and Anya?"

"What'd you mean?"

Omar chuckled, "I mean what's up with you and Anya."

"I don't know." The New Yorker shrugged, moving another box.

"How can you not know?" His friend asked, "I mean, you like 'er, right?"

"Yeah."

"You wanna marry 'er?" Omar teased, "Get yerself a war bride?"

Smithson didn't say anything a moment, "I've been thinking about it."

The other man's moved ceased as he gawked at him. "I was just kidding."

"I wasn't." He leaned against one of the walls, "I really like her."

"So? You don't just jack a girl from Europe 'cause you _really like her_, Utivich."

"Hey," the Little Man snapped, "If you didn't approve why'd you bring it up?"  
"I didn't say I don't approve," He said defensively, "but this isn't something up can make your mind up about on a whim, man, she's been jerked around enough."

Utivich nodded, "I know."

"Look," Omar uncrossed his arms, "if ya love 'er than go for it, but be sure first."

"I know."

"'Cause this isn't just about you."

He rolled his eyes, "I know."

"This is about her, and her family, which if she goes with you, she'll probably never see again."

Smithson hadn't thought of that, and he suddenly felt very selfish. "Right."

"Right," The other repeated, going back to work.

They went on in silence for a while, before Aldo called them upstairs.

-

"Dis coat is too much." Anya said, the heavy sheep skin weighing her down in a plush, but not entirely uncomfortable way.

Lucy patted her shoulder, "I told you money isn't a problem."

"No, dis coat is too much fo_r_ z'he French vinte_r_s, d'ey a_r_e not d'at cold, Gospoja B_ri_s_to_w."

The older woman took a moment to decipher what she had said, "I thought you came in because you were cold?"

"Me? I yem being fine," She smirked, "Alyo does cold like leytle girl."

"Doesn't surprise me," Lucy said, "he's southern."

Anya smiled, a subtle one as the woman tittered about the store, looking for some more proper undergarments for the Russian.

"Try these."

Taking the brassieres with a flush, she ducted back into the change room.

-

Aldo leveled his gaze at the young men. Sensing the tension he asked, "everythin' alright?"

"Fine." They chimed, glancing at each other as he clicked his tongue.

"Utivich what'd I tell ya 'bout lying?"

"Not to."

"Damn right not to." He scratched his scar as Greg lit up a cigarette, "now, what's wrong?"

"Utivich is gonna whisk Anya away to Manhattan so they can have little Jew babies."

"Omar!"

"What? It's true!"

"I already knew that, now, what're ya fightin' over?"

They blinked in surprise.

"What?" Aldo drawled, "I can be observant if I really wanna be."

"Well, I guess I was just thinkin' about it." Smithson said, "And Omar brought up some stuff I wasn't ready to think about yet."

"Like what?" Greg asked, "If you don't mind."

Utivich looked at the older man, "just-she's Russian, and she's got family there. She's not gonna just up and leave 'em just for me."

"Why not?" He said, "She's already done that."

"What'd you mean?" Omar quirked a brow.

Aldo sent Greg a dirty look, "we may have brought up sending her back."

"But-"

"_But_," The Apache went on, daring him to interrupt, "she said she didn't want to."

"She-she did?" Smithson's blue eyes widened as he smiled.

"She did."

-

A cool wind blistered through the cracked window as they drove.

"T'ank you."

Lucy shrugged, "don't mention it."

"I…dese vords are vrong but I vant you to know I yem…" She blushed, "happy with you today."

"I had a good day too, Anya."

They pulled into the drive, and each grabbed a bag from the back.

The house was loud, the men having retreated back to the kitchen for supper.

"Hey, Anyeh," Donny smirked as she entered the room, "guess what?"

Wearily she eyes him before asking, "vut?"

"Yer virginity was delicious."

"Donny!" Aldo snapped, smacking him upside the head, "'Sthat why you ate that whole thing?!"

"Well, yeah, of course. You think I ate eel pie for fun?"

A/N: Donny would down something gross just to tease a girl…


	19. Chapter 19

Anya didn't speak to Donny much after that. Even when he pouted, nothing changed.

Smithson rubbed her leg encouragingly, smiling softly down at her. The embarrassed twinge of red on her cheeks had not left, and she was resting comfortably on his chest. A few of the men sent them teasing looks, but it was Lucy smirking the widest.

"You really should change out of those rags, darling." The woman chided, nodding her head toward the door. "Come along then."

Anya gave Utivich a pat on the knee before following her out of the room. As soon as she was-

"Utivich an' Anya sittin' in a tree," Donny sang, smirking as Omar joined in, "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Oh, shut up!" the young man flushed, "this is what got her pissed off at you in the first place ya know."

"No, that was for makin' a joke about eatin' 'er-"

"Donny." Aldo warned, but he was snickering along with the rest of his men, "keep it classy with ya?"

"Be alot easier if Utivich wasn't feelin' 'er up every ten seconds," The Bear Jew said, smirking as he gave Smithson a pointed look. He rolled his eyes in response, noting Aldo pulling out his canister of snuff.

"Good point," The man rose a small amount to his nose, "but they ain't done nothin' too-" He let his voice broke off as the women reentered the room, in hopes to save them any embarrassment. There was a tense moment of silence as the girl took her seat next to Utivich, hands swiping under her skirt to keep it from riding up. Crossing her ankles she blinked at them.

"Vut?"

"Ya clean up nice, Anyeh." Aldo nodded at her, smiling slightly and the flush came back on her cheeks as a few of the men agreed.

"You actually look like a chick now," Hirschberg commented earning a smack on the back of the head from Greg who was standing behind him, "_hey_!"

"Told ya she cleaned up nice," Lucy muttered, nudging her husband subtly with her elbow.

He tossed an arm around her, smirking as a few of the men continued to poke and prod at Anya, "should've known better than to doubt you, sweetheart." She received a kiss on the forehead as the men's chatter got louder.

"No, it's not," Omar said, shaking his head as he rose a brow, "it can't be."

"Yes it can," Zimmerman nodded, taking a drag of his cigarette, "it's a bit disgusting, but it's true. People have been doing it for thousands of years."

"That's gross."

"But true."

Smithson chuckled as his…lady friend, scrunched up her nose in distaste. Miriam did the same thing when he used to bring bugs home. "I think it's cool."

"You would," Donny chuckled, "how'd the hell they find out about these little bastards anyway?"  
"Silk worms have been around forever, Donowitz, someone probably thought it was a good idea."

"Hippies." The Bear Jew speculated.

Zimmerman nodded, flicking some ash into the tray on the table, "probably."

Aldo scratched his scar, looking at the clock that rested on the mantel over the fireplace. It was getting late, and the boys had a big day ahead of them.

Not that they knew it yet. Sighing the older man spoke, "I suppose now's good'a time as any."

The men gave him their devout attention, prompting Omar to drop the piece of Anya's skirt he had been holding as curious eyes locked on their leader.

"We're headin' ta England tomorrow." He announced, giving Anya a sympathetic look, "we'll only be gone a month, maybe."

Grey eyes snapped up to her husband, "you didn't tell me that!"

"I didn't have the chance," Greg muttered, "Like he said, it's only a month."

Lucy stared at him, hurt as she shook her head, "_only_ a month?"

"Well, what're we doin' there?" Donny asked, an annoyed brow raised as he noted how unsurprised Wicki and Hugo looked, "and who else knew about this?"

"Well, Greg gave me the message las' night, Wicki an' Stiglitz found out this mornin'."

Anya thumbed the edge of her skirt, stifling the wave of anxiety that flooded through her. A month. A _month_? She'd barely known them a month and suddenly they would be gone? Just like that? For a _month_? Utivich glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as she continued to twist the fabric in her hands.

"Got some top secret mission thing goin' down." Aldo shrugged, "they said they wanted the best."

"And what?" Lucy snapped, "They got stuck with you?"

The men shot her a glare simultaneously, as the Apache spoke. "No, they requested us."

The older woman scoffed, sending Anya a conspiring glance, "did you know about this?"

"Nyet." She murmured, not looking up from the peach carpet.

"Than why aren't you more upset?!"

The girl shrugged weakly, "vut can I do?"

Lucy sighed, mimicking her action, "I don't know." Rubbing her eyes she met her husband's stare, "what time are you heading out?"

"Around six."  
A few sounds of discontent were heard from the men, but no outright complaints as a few of them stood. Zimmerman, Hirschberg and Wicki left the room as Lucy began to grind her teeth. Hugo inwardly speculated that her glare had scared them out of the room. His blue eyes settled on the younger of the females as she sat awkwardly quiet next to Utivich, who hadn't said a word since the subject had been brought up. Their hands remained untouched and she hadn't so much as sent a peek in his direction. Or anyone's direction, choosing instead to stare intently at the floor.

"Perhaps we shoud just go to bed," The German said, "figure the rest out in the morning, once everyone's calmed down."

"I am perfectly _calm_, mister Stiglitz!" Lucy screeched, earning a muffled chuckle from Omar. "And no one is going to bed until I say so!"

"Now, come on, Luce-"

She cut Greg off with a hurt look, "do not, come on, Luce, me, Gregory. I cannot believe you would have the audacity to keep something like this from me. Why-"

"I just found out too," He said, sighing as Aldo started speaking.

"I figure if we leave early, we get there early, and the sooner we get there, the sooner we get back."

Anya bit her lip as Smithson ran a hand through his hair beside her. "What about-"

"She's stayin' here, Utivich end'a story-Don't gimmie that look."

"What look?" The young man asked, a pointed glaze in his eye, "why can't-"

"'Cause she and Lucy are gonna keep each other outta trouble til we get back, alright?" Aldo's tone had a hint of finality, watching as the girl stood, "where ya think yer goin'?"

"You_r_ mind is made up, yes?" A nod, "z'en vut does it matte_r_ vut I do?"

With that she left them, going upstairs to her room. Sighing, Hugo stood.

"Where the hell are you goin'?" Utivich snapped, eying him with minor hostility.

He pursed his lips at the younger man, "to check on your woman."

A disgruntled groan came from him, but he did nothing to stop him as he wandered up the stairs.

-

"Miss Ledsen?"

She glanced at the typically broody, man in the door way. "Ja?"

"May I come in?"

"Ja."

He crossed the room in two long strides, standing next to the bed she sat on. "Well?"

"Vell, vut?" Anya stroked the outline of her violin case lovingly.

"How are you taking all this?" Hugo inquired, tilting his head slightly as she shrugged, "come on, Miss Ledsen."

"I-I do not know." She chuckled dimly to herself, "I deedn't t'ink he vould be gone so quickly."

He smirked knowingly, "Utivich?"

"Ja."

"You love him?" Stiglitz asked, his back rail straight as he stared at her curiously.

Tracing the outline she shrugged, "dis verd-"

"You know what it means, Anya."

Her eyes met his as she shrugged hopelessly, "I do not know."

"You don't know?" He cocked a doubting brow as some of her hair fell into her face. Ignoring the urge to swipe it from her eyes he went on, "how can you not know?"

"Dis is new." She stated, wide eyed and defiant, "vhy rush it?"

Hugo laughed quickly before the smile dropped from his lips, "you have to because you don't realize how quickly they can be gone, Miss Ledsen."

He stood, but her quiet voice stopped him.

"Vut vas her name?"

Stiglitz didn't turn, his voice low but clear, "Hanna."

"Oh," She watched him disappear from the door frame, before slumping back on the bed. Clutching her case to her chest, Anya sighed as she thought over the idea of being alone for a month. Well, not really alone, Lucy would be there.

Her eyes widened _alone with Lucy for a month_. While she certainly had warmed up to the elderly woman, the thought was rather unsettling. Alone with Lucy's cooking for a month. Groaning, she rolled onto her stomach. The case prodded her uncomfortably, but she ignored it as it dug into her ribs. _Son of a bitch_, there were some things she was just not cut out for. And Lucy's cooking was one of them.

"You okay?"

"Nyet," She promptly rolled back to face him, "you are leaving me vith Lucy."

"I thought you liked Lucy," Smithson almost grinned at her pout.

"I do. But I am not enjoying Lucy's coo-king."

"I am!" Donny peeked his head in, only to be dragged out by Aldo.

He pointed to the door, "Keep this closed." Shady blue eyes darted between them, "For now."

Anya snickered, cradling her case to her chest as Utivich shook his head.

"He has trust issues." The man speculated, not tearing his blue eyes from the door as she sat up. He heard some movement behind him and smiled softly as two pale arms snaked around his waist. Leaning into her touch, he sighed as she placed a soft kiss on the back of his neck. "Anya?"

"Mhm?" Her lips rose a little higher as she got on her tip toes, grazing his ear as she held him tighter.

Smithson's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of her breathe lingered, "what do you and Stiglitz talk about when I'm out of the room?"

The question didn't surprise her like it should have, and she took his head, turning him to face her. "Mostly? You."

The woman nuzzled her nose against his. Running a finger down his cheek she smiled softly at him. She looped it around, and ran it through his thick dark hair before taking his lips in hers.

His lips were softer than she expected, just as they had been in the tunnel, and Anya let out a quiet coo as he brushed some of her hair back from her neck. Smithson's response was eager, one hand encircling her narrow waist as she clung to his shoulders, the other running down her side. Fingering his shirt's hem, gentle coaxing removed it from his pants. She undid the bottom button nimbly, going upward as he steered her carefully toward the bed.

He didn't want to rush anything. Rush _her_. "An-" He moaned as cool hands pushed his shirt off his shoulders, "Anya, wait."

She paused, staring at him curiously through her lashes. A flush tainted her cheeks as she pulled away, "I'm-"

"No, no-" Utivich pulled her back to him, kissing her lips heatedly, "I just don't want to _rush_ you…after everything that's happened."

Anya stared at him. Large blue eyes blinked up at him, and he felt something stir in his stomach. Her lips met his gently before she flung her arms tightly around him.

So this is what Stiglitz had been talking about.

So much for not rushing it.

A/N: Hey, I know, terrible plot device, but it is important. Also my Cell Block Tango Series will be up by next week; just wondering, who would you like to see in it(Landa, Stiglitz, Wicki, Omar and Hirschberg are being used already)? I only need one more character.


	20. Chapter 20

The embrace was warm, but slightly unsettling. And everyone knows 'slightly unsettling' is a turn off.

Brushing some of her light hair back, Smithson peered down at her. "It's only a month."

"But-" Anya shook her head, licking her lips. "D'at is a long time."

"It's not that long," He assured her. The woman ran her fingers over his bare shoulder.

"Be careful, yes?"

Nodding, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "I will."

There was a long, sullen moment of silence as she continued to caress his bare shoulders with cool fingers.

"Smit'zen?" She bit her lip, "Is Denya mad at me?" Chuckling he shook his head, assuring her that he was not. A grin sprung on her light features as she giggled, tightening her hold on him as she dipped her head in a nod. "Good."

"I thought you hated Donny." Utivich speculated, gently steering her toward the bed. She dropped back easily, not resisting in the least.

"Nyet. Not hating." Anya undid the button at the top of her sweater (also pink, thanks to Lucy's insistence), pausing on the third button to think of the proper word. "Jus'… not l_i_king him."

The man flopped on to the bed next to her, spreading his arms out as he sighed. His eyes locked onto her back, watching a white camisole peek into view as she pushed the wool from her narrow shoulders. She laid back without looking, her head just barely hitting his rib cage. Tired fingers spun some of her red locks, absent mindedly noticing how soft they were now.

_Suppose the shampoo probably helps_, Smithson thought. He quieted his tone as he spoke. "Tell me about Russia."

"Vhy?" She looked up at him, but didn't move.

"Because I want to know."

A smile tugged at her lips, almost as pink as her sweater from their necking. "Vell, I gu_ess_ I could hu_mor_ you." He smirked at her accent, but she went on anyway. "Vut do you vant to be knowing?"

"Tell me about your family."

"Hm." Anya rolled on to her stomach, resting on his bare one. "My Pasha is ve_r_y sm_ar_t." Drumming her fingers on his smooth skin, the young woman ignored his curious stare. "He is t'e baby. After me."

"Of course," Smithson smiled at her playful glare and pulled her further up to his chest, letting her lay there. "What else? What about your parents?"

"My papa is…teacher," her nose scrunched up, "but mo_re_ so…at d_if_fe_rent_ school. 'Ighe_r_."

"Higher?" Utivich quirked a brow at her, "like higher learning or a higher position?"

She blinked at him, "at a musik school. Mama vus a dansa_re_."

"Dan-oh, dancer." He nodded, not entirely enjoying his little slip up as a flush bloomed over his cheeks.

"Ja. Tasta, too." Leaning into his touch, the Russian let her eyes flutter closed as he ran his thumb over her cheek. "T'ey seem so fa_r_."

"Do you miss them?" The catch in his voice seemed to surprise her, and she sat up.

Heavily lidded blue eyes looked down at him, "Ja. Do you miss Miriam? Denorah? Mama and Papa?"

"No papa," He corrected, remembering his father only briefly before pushing his image from his mind and coaxing her back to him. "And yes, I do miss them."

They stared at each other, realizing they both had one more person to miss.

-

When Aldo opened their door some time later, they were both fast asleep. A disapproving noise crawled up his throat, but died when he noticed they were both still partially clothed.

And as long as Utivich kept his pants on, he was happy. Grabbing a sheet off the near by dresser, he draped it over the pair. Unsettled, as he realized this could be the last time the three of them could spend together in a room. The man gazed at the couple a long moment, limp on the bed, completely unaware of his presence. He shook his head before leaving and closed the door soundlessly behind him.

-

Anya woke up alone. Sunlight poured in through the curtained window, birds chirped. Nothing was different except the dull ache in her heart and the coolness on the pillow on his. Sighing, the young woman brushed her fingers over it before shoving it off the bed.

It had smelled like him, and the last thing she needed was to be reminded of _Smithson Utivich_.

Sitting up, she stared at it. With a huff, Anya snatched it from the floor and held it to her chest. The silence of the house was disturbing, and she quickly made her way down the stairs in hopes of finding Lucy. She did not. The farm house had taken on a sullen air without the Americans (and Greg) in it. Holding the pillow a little tighter, she took a seat on the couch. Blue eyes glanced around the darkened, empty room. The soft, fluffy material was clutched closer to her chest, and she blinked her eyes closed before dropping back on to the couch.

Lucy found her some time in the early afternoon, the older woman's head still buzzed unpleasantly from how she put herself to sleep the night before. Patting her red hair, rougher than intended, she jarred the young woman from her slumber. They stared at each other a moment before Anya dropped her head back onto the couch, burying it in the cushions as Lucy took a seat next to her. Brushing the girl's hair back, she tutted over its mess a moment.

"It's all knotty," She said, a hint of a sigh in her voice as the Russian remained silent. "They'll be fine you know."

"Nyet. I don't."

"He'll be fine."

Looking up at her, the young woman felt a pang of doubt go through her. If Lucy didn't believe what she was saying, why should Anya?

-

The truck bounced, unsteadily and sullen as the men drove away from the house. Most of the men were asleep, with the exception of Hugo and Smithson (and Aldo and Wicki, but they were up front). The older man sat across from him, to his left, and even though he couldn't see it, the American knew his eyes were on him.

"What?" Utivich said, voice low for fear of waking the others.

"I'm…sorry, you had to leave Miss Ledsen." Hugo omitted, albeit somewhat awkward with his own attempts at comforting the boy, "I know it must be hard for you."

He didn't say anything a moment, but eventually nodded his agreement. "Thanks."

"At least you have someone to come back to." Stiglitz dropped his eyes, "gives you something to fight for, right?"

"Yeah, she does."


	21. Chapter 21

After the first week of being alone, the women quickly settled into routine. There were a few tense moments, but it was otherwise uneventful.

Lucy puffed away at a cigarette as she watched Anya's finger nimble pluck over an old blouse, well, shirt. One of the boys' shirts Wicki had given her. "You could just-" A daring glance was cast at her, and the older woman fell momentarily silent, knowing the girl wouldn't part with it. "Just a suggestion, dear."

With her blue eyes softened, Anya went back to work, muttering her apologies just loud enough for her friend to her. The lingering feeling of doubt crept into her mind as she ran the needle through the thin white fabric, mending with little second thought.

-In Britain there was more important matters being taken care of.

Aldo cocked a brow at the man in front of him, "Operation what?"

"Keno," Fenech corrected, seeming agitated with either the man's uneducated accent or confusion. "You will attend a German movie premier and-"

"Blow up the theatre." Stiglitz said, shrugging, "no problem."

Wicki nodded his agreement, "I take we will have an escort."

"That's correct, Archie Hicox shall be accompanying you."

Smithson let out a breath of relief, pleased, no over-fucking-_joyed_ that he didn't have to be a part of this. From the look on Omar's face, the younger man agreed with him.

"Hicox, huh?" Aldo was fiddling with his snuff container. Not a good sign. "He on the level?"

"Of course," Fenech replied, seeming some what offended by the remark, "I wouldn't put any one incompetent in a position of such importance, Lt."

The Southern man didn't seem to buy that, but strayed from the topic none the less. "Anythin' else we should know?"

"You will be accompanied by Bridgette Von Hammersmark-"

"The actress?" Wicki asked, shocked as his dark brown eyes widened, "what's she got to do with all this?"

"Well, Miss Von Hammersmark has been kind enough to play nice with the enemy. She's one of our top spies within the SS."

Hugo didn't seem to pleased with the idea of putting all their faith in some actress, but Omar and Smithson were hardly paying attention.

"So," Omar leaned over, whispering, "you ask her?"

"Ask her what?"

"You know," The man's round face eyed him playfully, "to come back with you."

"You want to talk about this now?"

"Of course."

Utivich shook his head, "no I didn't ask her."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, wasn't the right time I guess."

Omar rolled his eyes, "well, when is it gonna be the right time, because-"

"Are we boring you, gentlemen?"

The pair turned to face the British man, both blushing slightly as Donny piped up. "Don't know 'bout them, but yer borin' the fuck outta me, sir."

-

The days continued to drone by, and Anya found herself struggling to master the basics of knitting. Her fingers had always been naturally nimble, but this was ridiculous. Lucy eyed her technique with pity as she continued to darn socks.

The girl would be lucky if she ever completed a blanket. "Everything alright, Anya?"

"Ja." She nodded, the action more confidant than she actually felt. The Brit supposed it was stubbornness rather than honesty. "Ven-"

"Two more weeks," Lucy answered, already knowing what the question would be. She smiled teasingly at her, "don't you enjoy my company?"

"Ja, I do, is just…" A helpless shrug was given rather then an answer and the older woman put a hand on her shoulder.

"It'll be fine."

-

It was that very same day Zimmerman was struck down and killed.

The men buried him just outside a courtyard, in a grave just deep enough not to be considered shallow. They gathered around and uttered a few things they remembered about him. The only thing that came to mind was his wife, Ruth, and how they hoped they would be happy together in death.

-

Smithson paced back in forth as he remembered how close he had been to being killed. It could've just as easily been him; they were standing only feet apart. He raked his hands through his hair, tangling them painfully.

"Finally going to do it then?"

He spun to face Wicki. Nodding he swallowed the lump in his throat, "I have to."

"No you don't," he reasoned, smirking, "you just want to."

"I do."

"You love her?"

A nod.

"Why can't you say it?" The man asked.

Smithson sighed, "I don't know. I do, I just…nobody in my family really says it. My dad never did. My mom never does. Miriam says it all the time-at least she did when I was still home."

Wilhelm made an understanding noise. "You think they won't like her?"

Utivich chuckled, "I know they won't like her, I don't really care whether they do or not. It's just…she hasn't said it to me either."

"So?"

"So, the guy can't say it first, it doesn't work like that.

Wicki gave him a pointed look, "Donowitz tell you that?"

"Maybe."

"Never take advice from Donowitz. That's just stupid. If you love, tell her. Before you end up with a hole in the head like Zimmerman."

-

"'Ow did you and Greg be meeting?"

Lucy had gotten used to odd use of pronouns and verbs, but she smiled at the topic. "We went to school together." Anya stared at her, expecting more details that she seemed happy enough to give. "We went to high school together, he was in my math class."

The young woman smiled demurely at her, "vere you sure?"

"Was I sure what, dear?"

"Z'at he vus your one."

Lucy blinked at her. "Not at first. At first I thought he was an idiot, but I suppose that's how most couples start."

"And zen?" Her blue eyes peered innocently at the woman as she continued to unroll wool from its spool.

"And then everything just…fell into place I suppose." Lucy smiled contently. "Why?"

"I vus just vondering."

"About Utivich?"

A fine blush line her cheeks as she dropped her gaze. "Ja."

"I thought so. He's a sweet kid." The Brit nodded, "cows don't like him though."

The girl's giggle bounced off the walls as she recited the story to her.

A/N: sorry for the lack of updates and anya/Smithson! But its essential they be apart for a bit. If any of you guys can give me tips for writers block, it'd be appreciated.


	22. Chapter 22

-/_Two Weeks Later_/-

"Shh." Anya held up a finger as she leaned closer to the static filled radio.

Lucy moved a little closer, "What is it?" The older woman listened intently a moment, eyes widening as she realized the language travelling over the air waves. "That's Russian, isn't-"

"Shh!" The girl snapped, turning the volume up, she stared at the woman with intense blue eyes, "Z'ey are talking of the Cassocks."

"What's a Cassock?"

A small smile lit up her pink lips. "Z'ey are varriors."  
-/-/-

Omar pulled his boots on as Smithson moved robotically across from him. "You okay?"

"Fine." He answered stiffly, moving his fingers over the straps of his pack as he shifted it onto his back. "Why?"

"Just been kind of quiet."

Utivich blinked, "just tired."

"Sure you're not nervous?" Omar asked. His eyes were met with a grieving annoyance.

"Should I be?"

He cleared his throat, "Maybe a little."

"I thought you were-"

"I am!" Omar said hastily, "I am, honest, just-it's a big commitment, ya know?"

Utivich nodded, but didn't seem as concerned as the Easton boy. "I know."

"And you're completely sure?"

"Completely."

Ulmer grinned, "as long as you're sure."

-/-/-

Lucy tapped her fingers on her coffee mug as Anya leaned a little closer to the radio. "You're going to go deaf."

"Nyet." A firm head shake. "It is o-kay, Lusay."

The tapping sounded up again, as she approached the red head. "What're they saying?"

"Ve're running d'em out." Anya told her, "z'ey have no supplies left."

"The Russians are running out the Germans?" Lucy spoke slowly. It sounded odd. Last time they fought the Russians were basically an angry mob. "Huh. Well, darling, I think you've had enough for one night-"

"Ja," She sighed, turning off the radio. "I know. Ve vill go to bed, yes?"

"Yes." The took the girl's hand and pulled her up the stairs. "I'm sure everything will be fine in the morning, dear."

"Ja," Anya's voice was confidant, as was the smile on her face, "I yem sure."

-/the Next Morning/-

If Anya hadn't been in the shower, she would've heard the screaming coming from the kitchen. Lucy's excited hollering bounced off the walls as she embraced her husband.

"I'm so glad you're home! How was your trip? Did you eat well? How's England looking these days-"

"Luce," Greg gave her lips a firm peck, "calm yourself."

The woman continued to beam up at him, ignoring the Basterds all together. Well, she tried to, until an exhausted Aldo Raine spoke up. "Not that we ain't enjoying the little show there, Luce, but ya mind pointin' us to the bedrooms?"

She heaved a sighed, "they're in the same place they were when you left, _Lieutenant_."

Meanwhile, Utivich's eyes were darting around every visible aspect of the house available to him. He was half way up the stairs when he heard quiet humming coming from the bathroom. Freezing momentarily, he shook off his delicate and ran up the rest of the steps.

Anya was drying her reddish hair with a towel when a knock paused her movements. "Ja?" She asked hesitantly, as Lucy wasn't one to knock. Ever.

The sound came again, more eager this time, and she slowly opened the door. A familiar looking boy with blue eyes grinned at her. Gasping, she threw her arms around him, pulling him tightly to her chest she ignored his flush.

Half naked or not, she was going to hug her man. Kissing him firmly on the mouth, she ushered him back into the bathroom until he was pressed up against the sink.

"Anya," Smithson murmured, pulling away a moment to stare down at her dazed, happy gaze. "I just, I just wanted to-"

Running a finger down his cheek, she smiled demurely up at him. His lips were slightly reddened from their kiss, and she supposed he looked rather…cute. "Ja?"  
"I just wanted to-" He swallowed the lump in his throat. This was a lot easier when he did it in the mirror. A shaky smile rose on his lips and she pulled away from him.

Concerned etched onto her soft features she asked if he was feeling _vell_.

"Fine," He kissed her hand, gently, "just tired."

Nuzzling her face against the rough stubble that lined his cheek, Anya sighed. "Me, too."

_So much for proposing_, Utivich thought bitterly, hearing the men clamber up the stairs. Donny was the first to walk by the room, and Smithson kicked the door closed before he could comment on their risqué position. "Anya?"

"Mhm?"

"Maybe we should just stay in here a while."

She smirked at him, "vhy?"

"Because you're, um, you know…." His voice dropped to a whisper, "naked."

"Who said naked?!" Donny crowed through the door.

The couple ignored him, and the young Russian pulled away with a dark flush. "Oh. Ja, sorry."

"It's okay," Smithson smiled, pulling her back to his embrace, "I don't mind."

"Zen vhy-"

A spark lit in his eyes as he looped his arms securely around her waist. "I just don't want the other guys seeing you." He brushed some of her hair off her shoulder, taking in her appearance, "you look great, Anya." Her blush deepened and he went on, "real beautiful."

"Danke." She kissed his cheek as she leaned into him. "I," Blue eyes peered down at her through thick lashes and she found it hard to speak. "I missed you, Smit'zen."

He rubbed her arm, caressing her collar bone with his thumb. "I missed you, too, Anya."

"You von't go again?"

Utivich's hand froze. Silently begging for some reassurance, her gaze stayed on his just long enough to sense his apprehension. "Smi-"

"I know." He said, not meeting her eyes, "we leave tomorrow, we just came back to pick up some supplies…and you."

"Vut?"

A grin spread over his lips as he took her hand. "I want you to come with us, I mean, you'll have to stay out of sight, but- Aldo said it was okay."

She looked at him a long moment. "Stay out of sigh-ta for vut?"

"Operation Kino."

"Is it dan'ger'ous?"

He nodded, "I'll keep you safe."

Anya smiled when he kissed her hand again. "Zen ja, I vill go."

The pair grinned at each other before a harsh knocking came on the door.

"Get outta there! Some of us need t'a use the bathroom!" Aldo growled, and became even more upset when he heard giggling come from behind the door. "I mean-"

The wind was near knocked out of him when Anya swung the door open and threw her arms around him.

Most of her covered by Utivich's shirt, of course.

A/N: I'm still having a lot of trouble with this story, but since it's winding down, I'm guessing maybe five-six chapters max, I thought I'd update. Sorry if it seemed forced.


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